"By yourself? How you gonna do that?"
"They'll follow me."
"Okay, but take some cookies, and if they get away from you, you're on your own to catch them." What a gracious, loving mama-figure I am.
A few minutes later, I had to chuckle as he strode up the driveway with a trail of 17 CowNots trotting behind him; not a fluted journey, but The Pied Piper of NottaLotta Acres came to mind.
When we met him at the lagoon, we learned that Florence (that Florence!) and two babies had planted themselves in a patch of weeds by the CowNot barn and refused to budge. He'd have to go back for them.
And Elemeno had slammed on her brakes in the driveway.
Bleating from the lagoon put her on the move again.
Elemeno was more than satisfied to stand outside the fence, so we chased her back and forth for a while.
Now don't go frettin' over the big stick. He doesn't speak softly, but he does carry a self-styled staff. It's not for whacking, but goatherding, and with a bag of cookies in-hand, no guidance was needed. Catch the Cookie Man! is the mantra of traveling CowNots.
See. That big stick is on his shoulder, and Elemeno finally decided to come in. And trek #2 with Florence and the babies went off without a hitch, perhaps because Florence finally realized her own baby was missing. [Like Florence really cares about anything other than butting her meadow mates. *pfft*]
We don't know how she does it, but that Florence was on the outside of the lagoon this morning. "Son3," I whispered up the staircase. "Come get Florence before she eats everything on the property."
O bless our God, ye people, and make the voice of his praise to be heard: Which holdeth our soul in life, and suffereth not our feet to be moved. Psalms 66:8, 9
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