Sunday, September 14, 2008


I was on my way to the sheepdog trials when I realized one resident of Sandgate didn't want me to leave. When I turned the sharp corner by the town sign, this young angus steer was just hanging out in the road, minding his own business. I slammed on the breaks. (Even in the country you don't expect livestock to play stop sign.) Annie and Jazz were thrilled that I stopped for burgers, and almost trampled me in the front seat to get a better look. The steer however was unaffected. He just stared at us chewing something from a spare stomach. After a few moments I slowly drove around him (like he was going to move) and headed down to the Wayside for some coffee. Which I now needed, more than ever.

While I was in the country store pouring some, I told the guys sitting at the back table there was a stray black calf up the road. I think it livened up the morning conversation. Because they happily debated who's it was (possibly even one of the guys present.) It was getting interesting, but I couldn't stay. I took my coffee to go and left for the trials, which within minutes of my arrival had me thigh-deep in a sheep pen sorting thirty-odd surely (and horned, might I add) Scottish Blackfaces. Which is what you get when you volunteer to help at a Border Collie party. I had a blast. More later.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

very cool pic! remember more than a few times when my horses got loose.

i had to laugh at your previous posts about when you realize you're a farmer. my hubby says he loves that he married a farm girl. i just walk right thru mud, snow, rain, wind, cold and it doesn't faze me. the animals still have to eat.

September 14, 2008 at 6:11 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

what a really lovely blog you have here! So nice!

We're practically neighbors!

September 14, 2008 at 10:04 PM  
Blogger Sean Sullivan said...

You may not expect a cow in the road in Vermont, but I have come across several in the northern mid-west. Out here, they normally prance away. You wouldn't think it, but escaped dairy cows can, and often do prance while free of their usual confines.

September 15, 2008 at 12:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It wasn't one of my boys! ;)

Sean, we called that prancing the "evening frolic" at our farm. Most summer evenings, the lead cow would kick up her heels and take off with all the youngsters (cows, heifers and calves) following nose to tail, dancing in the gloaming. Lift up the front, kick up the back, run as fast as you can, kick, prance, frolic. Just fabulous to watch this joyous outlet from animals with such sweet dispositions.

September 15, 2008 at 5:34 PM  
Blogger Sean Sullivan said...

It's always something that makes me laugh a bit when I see it. If for no other reason then the fact that they normally seem so quiet, and somber.

September 15, 2008 at 9:05 PM  

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