Big mouths.

Big mouths can be good for something.  The three of us (Bob, Sheila, and me) have begun feeding the cows here at Shiloh.  One of the local grocery stores donates all their old bakery items and we give it to the cows.  It's fun.  They're sweet, gentle, beautiful beasts.  Those big brown eyes are so expressive.  I can't help but loving them.  Even the bulls are gentle and sweet.  The ranch has had a couple of them that weren't, but that's another story.

However, feeding them can be a little difficult. The north pasture is several acres and this is Florida, meaning it's very hot and very humid. The cows are no dummies.  They seek shade wherever they can get it, which means the north herd is usually a long way from where we put the bakery items. The birds would be more than happy to eat it, but the birds don't need it.

Something has to be done to attract the herd's attention.  The calves have their field very close to the place where the breads, cakes, pies, etc are stored until we can take them out of the bread wrappers and place them in tubs to be distributed among 3 different herds.  The calves are usually waiting by the area where we throw the bread.  After all, they see us pull up in our golf cart and watch us begin to dump the breads into the tubs.  They have an old, broken bathtub right beside the storage area, so their feast goes into that bathtub.  They munch as we drop the items.  I think a few of them are getting to know me a little better.  A couple of them are now asking to be hand fed!  I have to be careful with that, though.  They have long, juicy tongues.  A bath in cow slobber is not exactly a beauty treatment.

The South herd can see the feeding station, so they're usually waiting close to the cattle guard and they're the ones we feed next.  If they're under a tree any distance from us, they come on the run! Except for one shy one.  She's never come to join in the smorgasbord of goodies.  Don't know why, but it troubles me.  I want them all to have a good time!

We usually feed the north her last because we never know where we going to find them.  Sometimes they're under trees to the west, out of sight.  Sometimes, they're way off north under trees and early this morning, they were at the farthest northeast corner of the pasture.  Bob said maybe we needed to take the cart outside the fence until we reached them.  That's fine, except for one thing.  Sheila's little knees are bony and sharp and I bruise very easily.  Add to that I've been taken an aspirin regimen for years and you wouldn't be a bit surprised to look at dozens of little bruises in varying colors on my legs.  She sits in my lap while riding in the cart.

The path along the outside of the north pasture fence is rough, narrow, beside a busy road, and angles steeply into a ditch.  All that means is that Sheila has to dig in to stay on my lap.  More bruises. Fortunately, The cows had moved by the time we got around to delivering their morning snack.

Yesterday, Bob suggested I try to call them.  One of the staff says he calls them or bangs on something to get their attention. So, game to try anything once, I cupped my hands around my mouth and made an awful imitation of a cow.  Then, I banged on the cart with a stick.  They heard and came on the run.  Literally.

Bob was sure I would not be successful today, again thinking they were too far away.  They heard me yesterday.  I was sure they would again today.  Sure enough.  I didn't even have to bang on the cart with a stick.  Calling cows to their morning snack is important.  I'm privileged to have a mouth big enough to do it.