Farmer Dan’s cows clustered for the morning meeting. Maude drew circles in the dirt with her hoof while waiting for the stragglers. A cool breeze tickled their tails as the mounting clouds released drizzle on their backs. Trudy took her place as guard, watching for signs of him coming.
“Okay, Myrtle, back up five steps, and Bessy, move up three. Missy, turn around please. And Bessy, move right four paces. No! The other right!” Though Maude pointed to her example of a circle, and the cows tried their best to follow, they could only form a zig zag.
“That’ll have to do.” Maude sighed and wiped splattered mud off her nose. “Today I have some news.”
Margaret piped in, “I know... the grass is greener on the other side of the hill.”
“Well, how do you know it isn’t?” Bessy asked.
“That’s not important now.”
Myrtle chuckled. “Maude, grass is always important. Maybe Farmer Dan is hiding the grade A grass from us.”
A few cows gasped. A few cows mooed.
Dan looked out the window. “What’s up with the ladies?”
Farmer Fran, his wife, joined him at the window. “Who knows? They could be holding choir practice.”
Then Maude mooed a volcano-size: “Quiet!”
The cows stopped mooing and mumbling.
“Farmer Dan and Farmer Fran are expecting.”
“Expecting what?” Bessy asked.
“A calf, of course. Haven’t you noticed Fran’s growing belly? She looks like we did before the calves came.”
“I thought she ate one too many chickens.”
“The point is,” Maude continued, “life will change here. We’ll become second class citizens, low cows on the totem pole.”
“Steak,” Myrtle added to everyone’s horror.
“They wouldn’t!” Bessy bellowed.
The cows hung their heads low. Maude began, “We have to do something special so they’ll want to keep us; it’s our only chance.”
While the cows sulked, Bessy prayed. “I have an idea.” No one listened, so she growled the deepest, longest moo ever.
Everything went silent.
“What is it, Bessy?”
“Why don’t we do what they do?”
“You mean milk cows? No way!”
“If we follow their example, they won’t get rid of us. We’ll become family not just their milk supply.”
Myrtle spoke up, “I, for one, would love to be treated like an equal.
Maude compared her circle drawing with the odd shape the cows formed. Oh well, it’s worth a try. “Let’s do it. From now on, we behave like farmers…but try not to scare the overalls off them,” warned Maude.
The next day…
Farmer Dan was about to relax in his recliner and drink black coffee, when he saw her.
“Fran, did you notice anything odd about Myrtle today?”
“No, like what?
“Like she’s sitting in my chair.”
Dan and Fran heard a motor coughing. “That doesn’t sound good,” said Fran.
“Sounds like my old lawn mower, but who…?”
Maude mowed the lawn, the garden, and Fran’s prize winning petunias.
Fran screamed from the second floor. “There’s a cow in the shower.”
“Could you turn the water on, dear?” Bessy asked politely. But all Fran heard was “Moo.”
Dan locked the barn before driving to the field.
“Guess we’ll just be cows today,” complained Myrtle.
As Dan drove the tractor to the field, it suddenly sputtered and smoked like a chimney. He pulled to the side of the road. Not realizing his bootlace untied, he leaped down, losing his shoe, and tumbled.
“Ow!” He yelled, looking at his swollen foot.
Back at the farm, Maude’s ears perked up. “Did you hear that?”
“Sounds like Farmer Fran is mooing.”
“She’s having her calf,” Myrtle announced. “We’ve got to get Farmer Dan back to help.”
“But we’re locked in.”
“I know…” said Bessy, “let’s shake our cow bells and moo as loud as we can. He’ll know something is wrong.”
Dan heard the racket, and so did Officer Burt who drove him home just in time.
Maude, Myrtle, Trudy, and Bessy stood in the window. “Aw, they had a little farmer.”
“Maybe we should go pack our bags.”
Just then, Farmer Dan hobbled outside on crutches and shouted, “We have a boy...and you girls are heroes!” If you hadn’t made a racket, Officer Burt would’ve kept driving. He hugged each cow. We’ve got the best cows that ever mooed.”
The next day, Maude called a meeting. “Good job girls. Now we can get back to being cows. Oh, and don’t forget—five o’clock is choir practice.”
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