I seemed to have left the pasture gate open and a few of the closest neighbors complained that our cows were nibbling on their lawn. Well, let me be honest. The grass is dead here and I don’t think it was the eating as much as the getting rid of part that bugged most people. I tried to convince an annoyed neighbor that they should be happy as it’s free fertilizer but that only got me a disgusted, even more angry look from the receiver of digested grass. We were actually away at the time our devious bovine ran wild and free and Grey Beard had to chase the culprits back into their confines. I’m not sure how that would of looked but I can only imagine Grey Beard using a few choice words and he flung frozen dung at the critters. In the mean time our steer lost his weaner nose piece. The one that looks like this. I’m pretty sure this could catch on as a new hip trend for the high school kids. Don’t you think we could convince a few already pierced participants that this would really show the world they are cool. I’d even take off the plastic balls and just lance it through a nostril or two. Or how about this one. We bought this plastic piece but decided against it. I’m sure it would of worked but I cringe just looking at the thorns. Molly thought it was a pretty cool play toy. I knew I had to take it back as there is no way I’m going to be the cause of my little girls fashioning a device like this in their nose just to be in the cool kids gang. After we discovered the steer lost his weaner apparatus, Milly bought another one and sent me out to secure the device. The last time I tried to put the calf weaner in place  Milly had to come out and tackle Monkey to the ground after I ran around with Ringo for a half hour trying to get close enough to the stupid steer. This time Milly said I had to be a big boy and tackle the steer myself. So with the courage of a girly man I went out to give it a go. I picked up a completely inadequate rope and had visions of slinging it across the field while having it land perfectly around the critters neck. You know, how they do it in the movies or at the NFR. (I actually have a few high school friends that are rodeo cowboys. I’m sure glad Riley Wilson and Tom Bingham weren’t around to snort and snicker.) I guess flinging a rope around takes talent. I tried it a couple of times and the steer just laughed at me as the rope landed harmlessly on top of the cow shed. Drat the luck. I think Milly, the kids, and half the town were watching me out their windows and most of them were cheering for Monkey. I tried a different strategy. I plopped down some hay and used Rosebud as a shield to sneak up on the competition. Much to my chagrin Rosebud started blocking for Monkey like she was a clearing the path to the end zone. After many attempts and a few close calls I finally sneaked up on the steer while he was peeing. I only got a little wet but it was worth it. Somehow I managed to get the steers leg caught in with my make shift lasso. That actually worked out ok. I led the steer forward and it couldn’t really walk. It kind of tumbled over to the ground so I jumped at the chance to get the weaner in place. Defenseless and I’d guess somewhat bored of all my attempts the steer just snorted snot all over my hand as a token of admiration and respect for my tenacity. (I’m sure that was it.)  I wasn’t sure if any one else saw me bring that critter to the ground like I did but as I came in the house Milly grinned and said “I bet you think your a cowboy now.” Ha, ha. Victory. My wife actually saw me be a man for once. As for my annoyed neighbors? They better be careful when they complain about cows on their lawn. I hear them cowboys are a pretty rough lot to deal with. G’night, Y’all.