We tried everything, cow halters, ropes, dog leashes, pulling, pushing… nothing would get that fatty back across the river, so we had to bring in the big guns. Her short legs would have certainly meant she would have to swim in parts, float or be drug. Hmmm.
This was definitely a two man job, and this time I was so grateful not to be the second man.
Luit was sure that she would just stay in the bucket while he took her back across the river, but I insisted on the metal ramp tied down.
Yep, she almost busted out of there and tossed Mike in the river.
“Hey, I’m not finished! Don’t you know I’m a charter member of the Clean Plate Club?”
“Hmmm, that was fun, but where’d that alfalfa go?”
I got the cows across, but poor Faline had a chin full of porcupine quills.