Ah...Spring is in the air. And here in the barnyard, spring is the season for love. That is love and uh, mating. That's right. The world has awakened to spring with one thing on its mind -procreation.
It all began with a simple question over dinner:
Nathan: Do birds ever fight each other?
Innocent enough. Sure they do. They fight other birds to protect their nests or their babies. It wasn't until Mamoune added her two cents that we realized our plight.
Mamoune: Yeah, I saw two butterflies fighting today, too.
Oh boy. Tim and I exchange a sheepish glance and do what every wise and well-prepared parent does. We change the subject.
Our avoidance program was working, too. And then the cows started getting frisky. In the pasture (which spreads directly in front of two picture windows in our living room) are four cows. One male, three females. I have taken to calling them Sammy and the girls because the bull reminds me of Sammy Davis, Jr. Maybe I'll post a picture soon so you can see what I mean. So, a few days ago Sammy began wooing the ladies and the ladies began vying for position. At one point they were displaying dominance by head butting and other things so I yelled for Tim "Come quick, it's a chic fight!" He wasn't impressed.
Our denial scheme was beginning to crumble. How can you keep avoiding what is right outside your window? When you are eating dinner and you gaze out over the meadow to find that oh, look dear, the Discovery channel is on again or when you are sitting on the couch reading to your kids and one of them says "What is wrong with those cows?!" The gigs up. And so, my valiant and wonderful husband educated my children. I can't tell you what he said because I was in the shower but I'm sure it was brilliant. I'm just glad it was him and not me.
In the meantime, there seems to be a lull in the action. The problem (in my expert opinion) is a young and well, inexperienced bull. Having worked for a vet and having a clear understanding of the artificial insemination process, I can say with confidence that he will get no help from us. It seems they've reached a time of mutual separation. Maybe the mood just isn't right. Maybe it's hard to focus with three children running like banshees all over the pasture. Or maybe the ladies are just biding time in hopes that a bull with some skeelz will wander into the meadow any day now. Go figure.
Oh, and as for our kids education...the chickens next door picked up where the cows left off. So continues Home school Biology 101. Cursed spring time!