Drag Queen

There is a division of labor in our house, like many others, by necessity (one person can't do all the work) and by default (some stuff one of us is just better at than other stuff).  In the morning, assuming no animals are lactating, I take the indoors stuff and he takes the outdoors stuff.  Both of our lists are long.  The exception is when he travels--which is quite rare--but painful.  It is when I go into modern frontier woman mode.  I haul buckets and muck stalls and turn out animals and brush hair and make two delicious school lunches and put on a suit--washing my hands in between of course. 

And so I brace myself.  Because it turns out training a Dexter calf is a bit of an exercise in persistence and patience and, well, strength.  Funny story.  About one week ago I was out cleaning up the last of the gleanings from one field.  Daisy was nearby--and I thought it a great time to take a minute to give her some lovin'.  She is tied off to a tire right now on a long rope.  It is working out well, teaching her to stick around and preparing her to be trained on electric fence.  So I head to the tire.  I then step on the line and walk on it, pressing it to the ground and slowly approaching her--talking to her all the while.  She's used to this.  I get super close and grab the rope from under my feet with my hand and pull her in for a nice scratch.  I scratch her face, belly, brisket...all the while being mindful of her demeanor and the rope and my feet. 

And then it happens, she gets this wierd googly look in her eyes, and, darts.  Who knows what spooked her.  All I know is she went the exact direction that I thought she would not!  Of Course!  The tire to my right....calf to my left and a big rope right at the back of my knees.  Down I go.  Shins folded hard underneath me, feet in my butt....she drags me...that crazy cow.  Thank god for double knee Carhaarts and my decision to wear them over shorts that morning. 
My mind races---"I am about to get really hurt", I think.  So I pull of this wierd side roll thing that finally pulls my legs out  from under me.  I jump up and walk toward the barn--covered in poo and mud.  He is in the barn doing something---"What happend to you??!".  Not funny.  Well, actually, quite funny.

So, since that day, Daisy and I have been glaring at each other from a distance.  And we have been spending a little time together at her few minute short tie up in the barn.  And, soon, she and I will have to become good friends.  We have time.