Especially if your cattle are seized with some kind of preternatural bovine wanderlust and you get a knock on the door from the Sheriff’s department at 6:15AM asking if you own a small brown cow who, right at that exact moment, was wandering along the road in front of the north pasture. And people wonder why I’m trying to put in new cattle fence as quickly as possible.

Here’s something for your urban to rural transition – horse fence, even an electric one, might not keep an adventurous Highland calf from sneaking in and out of the pasture at will. At first it was alarming when we saw cattle on the wrong side of the fence. Then, it became routine. Then, it was alarming again when I realized how often it was occuring and how powerless I was to stop it. This is not the “cycle of life” I signed up for.

Moving to the country often entails the same sort of fantasy images as when people think about having children. Adults and kids, running through the grass in slow motion holding hands. Teaching children to ride a pony and collect eggs. The barn raising  sequence from Witness. Kelly McGillis naked in Witness. The reality, of course, involves a lot more scraping of poop off shoes, raccoons trying to eat your chickens, and thousands of dollars in new fencing. In my case, that was at least an *expected* reality. It doesn’t make it any easier when all you can do for the Sheriff is shrug and point to the new line of fenceposts and say, “I’m trying as fast as I can.”

Luckily, the Sheriff was nice. She had horses. Cath might not be as understanding. She would prefer not to keep an ever constant vigil for escaping cattle. She would also prefer that I not think about Kelly McGillis in Witness. In fact, I am forbidden from ever mentioning the word “Amish”. Ha! She’s on vacation this week and probably won’t read this any time soon, so Amish, Amish, Amish. Of course, I’m forbidden from saying this word mostly because we’re so ashamed at our fences compared to theirs.