humor
I Had a Cow…or more precisely a Bull
Living a just left of Amish life
My college work schedule was changed this semester, I’m scheduled to teach an 8:00 AM class. Thirty-plus years ago I taught an 8:00 AM class, as was the right of passage. The new-to-graduate-school teaching assistant gets the prime spot of 8:00 AM and then again 4:30PM! A wretched schedule was to be expected in exchange for tuition and a stipend.
But after, 30+ years teaching; after international presentations of scholarly work; after national “Big Show” presentations, research publications, and awards for teaching, it would be reasonable to think I had earned a primo schedule. It is tradition after all, in an institution deeply steeped in ancient traditions. (seriously what is up with the batwing sleeves on the Master’s degree graduation gown?).
This new schedule means I have to be up by 4:30 AM to be alert and ready to teach at 8:00 AM. I’m trying not to complain. Trying not to cede my power or dignity over to my bosses. I acknowledge all those who have to rise and shine early every day of their careers-no special perks for having read a lot of books!
I choose to celebrate the sunrise as I drive the 40 minute commute from my 11 acre farmette in the hills of upstate New York. I tell myself this is a good thing! Shaking up the routine is good for a 65 year old brain.
This particular morning I was running behind schedule. There had been a howler wind storm during the night that kept waking the dog up, who felt obliged to wake me up. I was more than my usual groggy self given the lack of sleep I’d had.
I was running my morning lesson through my head as I got in the car. I realized I’d have to speed a bit if I am to get to class on time. “I promise the universe to drive the speed limit home if it keeps me safe and ticket free this morning.” I put the car in drive and press the gas pedal only to slam on the brakes. The contents of the car went flying into the front seat.
Standing in the middle of the driveway was a large black animal. My first sleep deprived thought was, “Oh deer you need to move” but on second thought, I exclaimed out loud, “That’s no deer, it’s a cow. A big black cow.” The cow, as if to correct me, took a large piss in the driveway to make it abundantly clear he was a bull and he was in charge.
The ground was too muddy to drive around him-I would have gotten stuck. Plus, what to do with a bull in the driveway? I had no idea. I have no livestock on the farm-just fruits, vegetables and hay.
I send an e-mail to my class with the heading, class delayed, Bull in drive sends apologies. Then I try to check with the county animal warden. The office is closed of course because it is only 7:30 AM at this point. Would not have done me any good, the further I read into the county web page I find they do not deal with escaped livestock.
I called the village police number, whose machine politely remarks, we open at 9:00 AM if it is an emergency dial 911. I did not think a Bull in the driveway was how I wanted to meet the local sheriff.
Luckily the bull spotted a bail of hay and slowly meandered over to it while keeping a close watch on the car. I took my chances and drove passed him while he had his breakfast.
As I headed down the driveway I had visions of the bull sitting on the porch swing with a cigarette in one hoof and a martini in the other greeting me when I got home, “How was your day you sweet Heifer?”
In between classes, I posted on a few local Facebook pages, and texted the neighbor who is working from home still. The neighbor had a good hunch who the bull belonged to and was able to get a hold of him.
That evening as I drove up to the house, a farmer was walking down my long driveway with the bull on a leash. The bull looked over at me and winked as if to say, “Thanks for breakfast. Maybe next time we’ll have that drink, Moo-chacha!”