Tag: cattle

  • CATTLE RANCH

    Think you’re having some problems? Take a look at what’s happening on Farmer Pappi’s ranch.

     

    “Not again!” said Farmer Pappi.

    He threw his hat on the ground and spouted a few choice words. Another twelve cows, gone. That made three dozen this week. No damage to the fence. No foot prints. No car tracks. Just gone. The cattle rustlers must have airlifted the animals out of the field.

    What was left of his herd grazed nearby. If only they could talk. One of the cows pulled leaves off a bush with purple flowers, jostling a swarm of insects. Pappi muttered a few more curses as they fluttered around his head, then shooed the cow away from the plant.

    Pappi retrieved his hat as the animal ambled off. A startled moo made him jump. Pappi spun around expecting to see a bandit. The cow stood a few yards away, shaking its head. After another bellow it’s back shimmered and a pair of butterfly shaped wings sprouted. It turned and nosed the strange new appendages then began to move them. After a few tentative flaps, the cow lifted into the air and fluttered away.

    Too stunned to react, Pappi stared as it vanished over the hills. Cow’s aren’t supposed to fly. Heavy footsteps and another moo snapped him out of his stupor.

    “Oh no you don’t,” he said, shooing three more cows away from the plant.

    Pulling out his smart phone he snapped a picture and used the plant identification app. It didn’t take long to figure out the problem. Butterfly bushes were not good cow food.

  • Dominator

    Flies swarmed the carcass and I cursed. This was the tenth heifer that had been ripped to shreds. A low rumbling growl made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I spun away from the remains and came face to face with Fang. His lips curled back, teeth gleaming. Five other coyotes circled the carcass. What devil drove these beasts to confront a human in broad daylight? And since when did coyotes hunt in packs?

    Fang glared with an almost human hatred. I raised my gun, shaking so hard the shot went wild. The coyotes didn’t flinch. Gramps thought the wild horses were a problem, thought they would ruin the field and contaminate our cattle. At least horses didn’t kill. I fumbled to reload, dropping a cartridge. Fang leaped before I could raise the weapon. I stumbled back, tripping over the carcass. Sixteen was too young to die.

    Something flew over my head, crashing into Fang. Dominator, the chestnut stallion that led the wild horses, trumpeted his challenge. A strange reddish hue glimmered in Dominator’s eyes and the white patch on his head shone like some weird third eye. His sharp hooves made short work of Fang and the other crazed coyotes, trampling even those who tried to flee. Was this the same bold colt I had spotted only two years ago? I stared in wonder, thankful to be in his favor. Dominator seemed to nod once with an eerie intelligence. Then he trotted off.