“Rounding up the cows” took on a whole new meaning tonight. In the middle of the herd was a huddle of cows encircling a rather ordinary-looking yet obviously extraordinary patch of grass.
What on earth could they sense? Blood, perhaps? Not that I’m suggesting anything but the only time I’ve seen cows go “crazy” in this way was after they passed yards in the old days after dehorning was done. It was a messy, deeply unsettling affair and the cows could smell it from a mile away.
We all hated the job but Dad explained it was kinder than having the cows down the pecking order gored with the sharp horns of their merciless superiors. Thankfully, these days we are able to cauterise the horn buds and spare the cows the trauma.