Monday, June 21, 2021

Hick Almost Has a Cow On Father's Day

I had just sat down at HIPPIE at the kitchen table, bright and early on Father's Day (12:30 p.m. actual time), when I heard the dogs going wild. Hick was at his Storage Unit Store until 2:00, so I knew it wasn't him coming home. The Pony was in his room enjoying a day off from delivering mail.

Wait a minute! That wasn't my dog! Like a mother knows her children's voices, I know my fleabags' barks. Even Copper Jack's. I could hear my little Jack, who has a higher-pitched bark. This one was even higher. Like a little yippy dog. I went out the kitchen door to investigate. Juno darted out of her house. I was in the midst of talking to her, rounding the first corner toward the garage, when my little Jack came scrabbling around the corner from the front porch. I'm pretty sure there was a thought bubble over his head, filled with assorted leftovers I've given him as treats.

"Hey, Jack. What are you barking at?"

I noticed a 4-wheeler parked halfway down our driveway, facing the garage. And a red Gator-thing parked at the end of the driveway, by our address sign. What in the NOT-HEAVEN? I went on to look down the front porch.

A gangly 13-year-old-size boy carrying a helmet was walking down the steps. I used my teacher voice.

"What's going on?"

"Our cows are in your yard."


We both shrugged. He walked around the side of the house towards the back yard. I started back around to the kitchen. Not my monkey, not my circus. No way was I going to look for a cow. Nor yell at my dogs for doing what dogs are supposed to do. Literally. They have ONE JOB, to bark when there's an intruder. So I wasn't going to discourage them. Copper Jack isn't even mine!

I sent Hick a text:

"There's a man and two boys wandering around by the pool. Say their cow is on our land. Dogs are going crazy."

That was at 12:34. At 12:50, Hick replied:


Good thing it wasn't an emergency!

When Hick came home and heard more, he said they were gone. 

"They left a bucket of corn in the yard. I dumped it out."

"Wait! Maybe they left it so the cows would come out of the woods."

"Too late now. They can find their corn over by the sheds. I fed the squirrels."

"Why would you feed the squirrels?"

"It keeps them off the porch."

"I guess you kept their bucket."

"It's hanging on the well spigot."

So... technically, Hick ALMOST had a cow on Father's Day. But all he really got was a card from me that said Happy Birthday (marked out) because Country Mart was out of Father's Day cards last week. And he got three Coca Cola ornaments for his collection, and a little Coca Cola cooler, and some lottery tickets. He had a $50 winner on a $10 ticket! Plus another $5 winner.

Hick didn't seem at all upset over missing out on a cow.


  1. Hick came out a winner and you had a fright. Oh what a day.

    1. I only slightly begrudge Hick's win, but I could do without the fright. My home is Hick's castle, you know, and I don't like livestock in the yard and random teenagers on the porch.

  2. I would have checked to make sure there actually was a cow or two, in case those boys were casing the shackytown shacks looking for stuff worth stealing. I have a suspicious mind after living here in these flats where theft is rampant. Just this week a neighbour had his bike stolen off his front porch in the middle of the night.

    1. I never did see or hear an actual cow. Only that one kid. He peered down into the woods, and hollered, "What am I supposed to do?" I didn't hear an answer. Maybe he was heading for Shackytown Boulevard when nobody answered the door! Probably not. The doorbell doesn't work. I surprised him by coming around the corner.

      My sister the ex-ex-mayor's wife's son had his SCOOTER stolen from his porch! He had a good video of the thief, the police knew his name, my niece saw him riding it a few blocks from the police station a few weeks later, and called it in... but as far as I know, there has been no arrest or recovery of the scooter.

  3. Don't forget the free bucket! HeWho never seems to get excited when I call for his assistance, not even on Father's Day when a disgruntled would be swimmer was asked to leave and he tried to run me over with his truck. My excellent camp worker came asap to my assistance, though.

    1. Oh, yeah. I could have titled it: Hick Gets a Bucket for Father's Day! Which is still better than my $3 pink change purse I got for a Mother's Day.

      I guess your excellent camp worker is a man of steel, stopping speeding trucks!

    2. Actually, he is old school in gallantry. He will grab things from my hands proclaiming them to be too heavy for my delicate femininity. He does EVERYTHING for his wife, even cooks and cleans up the mess he makes. She won' even go to the grocery alone. He helps her do laundry. He is big and blustery and looks like he would love to punch you in the face. HeWho is content to just sit and watch me work. Lazy? Why yes, yes he is! Don't really think he will change after 48 years of being catered to. My own fault, I guess, but I do not do it quietly or with a gentle attitude.

    3. Why do I imagine you setting up a Frankenstein laBORatory, hooking up one's brain to the other...