As my regular reader will know, I live near a field where seven cows reside. I walked past said field last week only to notice that they had staged a daring escape. I say ‘daring’, but these things are relative; what may be commonplace for you or I (opening a gate) must have taken my erstwhile bovine compatriots months of preparation and planning (opening a gate without any kind of thumb, even a disposable one, must have taken some forethought).
This explains one previously unsolved mystery: the unreliability of the bovine rain-gauge. Clearly they were too busy discussing escape strategies to have time to consider meteorological forecasts.
Their one oversight was to leave the gate open. This surprised me, as I had thought that all rural dwellers adhered strictly to the countryside code. The cows seemed to stick to the other articles of the code (for example, they didn’t leave any litter behind at all).
Thus, I stand by the open gate and ponder. Either they were too excited at the success of their plan that they forgot to close the gate (v. unlikely) or they were planning to return at the dead of night to dig up their buried treasure (a far more reasonable explanation, given the meticulousness of these particular cows).
Perhaps it is the first step a “Planet of the Cows” scenario?
It’s 3.34 a.m. and there’s still no sign of their return (I even brought my spade). What can they be up to? It’s been nearly a week.