We were at the library when the sky turned black and the rain began to fall. It was an amazing storm to watch. I knew, too well, that it was sure to leave an aftermath. There was a bit of hail, tremendous lightening, and 60 mph winds. It didn’t take long to get word that power lines were down all over our community and many trees and roof shingles had been blown away.
It was a frightening storm, and that’s coming from someone who loves, Loves, LOVES to watch a spring storm blow through. I guess our cow, Cheeseburger, got very very frightened. Fact is, we couldn’t find her anywhere after the storm. Our pasture isn’t all that big, and it doesn’t have any trees. The gate was closed and the fence was in tact. How on earth does a cow hide in a place like that?! Her shelter was empty… There was only one place in the pasture left to look, the doghouse. But she couldn’t possibly be in there! Could she?!
As I walked closer, I saw her not so very photogenic side (her rear end) protruding from the very small doghouse door. How on earth!? I really couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I called for her, and she didn’t move a bit. Oh, crap. Not only do I have a cow stuck in the doghouse, I have a DEAD cow stuck in the doghouse, I thought. Thankfully, she chose that moment to moo.
Assessing the situation, I found that she had somehow managed to get all of her (well, almost) into the doghouse and was laying on her side, firmly stuck and unable to stand up or turn around.
You may remember CB (cheeseburger) from posts last spring when she was a cute little calf.
Well, she isn’t a cute little calf anymore. She’s grown. A lot.
My honey is tall, so I’d say this cow is four and a half feet tall, at least. I don’t know what she weighs, but I bet it’s a lot.
No way were we going to be going in and pulling her sorry rear end out of that doghouse.
Eric and I just stood in the pasture, shaking our heads and hoping that the silly creature wouldn’t get too worked up and hurt herself. CB kept thrashing around, trying to stand up, turn around and get out of that claustrophobic space. The whole doghouse shook.
We considered our options.
1. Call my momma, the cow whisperer, to come rescue us. This didn’t pan out because they had plenty of damage on their farm that needed to be assessed.
2. Pull CB out of the doghouse. Yeah. Have you ever tried to wrestle a great big, scared, crazy cow? Not really an option we were looking forward to. ‘Specially since the un-photogenic end that was sticking out the doghouse door was covered in… Well, we’ll leave it at that.
3. Cut a hole in the end of the doghouse where her head was so she could work her way out on her own. Not going to be a fun option, considering all power was out and the work would need to be done with a handsaw. Oh, and the doghouse was insulated providing not one, but two walls to cut through.
Am I the only person on earth who ends up with these kinds of situations?! Some days I am pretty sure I am really Lucy Ricardo… Really, how many people do you know who end up with a cow stuck in their doghouse?!
We finally gave up weighing options and dejectedly began the walk to the garage to get a saw. I briefly considered calling the fire departments, thinking how much easier this would have been if we could use the jaws of life. Hey, they get cats out of trees in the movies. Why not rescue cows stuck in doghouses?
Just as we gave up all hope of an easy solution that didn’t involve the destruction of the doghouse, CB must have had enough excitement.
She strained and she stretched. She fell and then she tried to get up again. There just wasn’t room in the doghouse for her to stand. Finally, she managed to work her rear end into the doghouse and somehow turn herself around.
You’re not going to believe this, but she crawled out of that doghouse on her knees. Who knew a cow could crawl on it’s knees?!
I wish I had pictures, but I was far too busy fighting my shock over the “smartest dumb animal” I’ve ever seen.
Thankfully, all’s well that ends well. She had a few scrapes and scratches, but isn’t too much worse for the wear.
The doghouse, on the other hand, may need some repair work and serious cleaning before we bring home a puppy for the kids.
Oh, and the doghouse isn’t in the pasture anymore.
CB is so relieved.
And I have a pretty unbelievable story to tell my grandkids someday…