Cow Cusser

02 Jan

My dad was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person you’d ever have met. He wasn’t big on hugs, but he enjoyed spending time with those he loved. He was slow to anger and quick with a kind word. He took his time explaining most things, so long as time was available.

My dad was a faithful Christian through all of life’s toils and troubles, and believe me, he had more than his share. He led Sunday school, served on every church committee, and attended Sunday school until only two weeks before he passed on.

He was an animal whisperer. He could talk an animal into pretty much anything be it cat, dog, or cow. They were happy to do all things good for someone who understood them so well.

But he did use a language that my mom strongly disagreed with when bringing his dairy cows into the barn for the twice daily milkings. He could cuss out any cow who did not find her station in a timely manner … or who tried out another station, usually to have a few extra bits of grain.

This sweet man who could remain calm in emergencies and laugh so easily could swear better than the best of them at his bossies. I have not heard anyone cuss like my daddy could. Not sailors, not cowboys, not military men. It sure made for a fun part of the day for me to hear him tell the cows where to go and how to get there if there was any disagreement on their location in the dairy barn. It was a boring night when they all went in their assigned spots.

Morale of the Story: Everybody’s got to let off steam. Some are more entertaining to their family in doing so.

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Posted by on January 2, 2013 in Uncategorized


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