Often A Dull Roar, Never A Dull Moment

"Hoo would do such a thing?"

FFA — Future Farmers of America

FFS — (something else entirely)
***
Activity-specific training can be very effective.

You want to get in shape for basketball? You play basketball.

You want to run a trail race—you hike and run on trails.

You want to herd cattle on foot? Well...that's just silly. 

Seriously, no one wants to herd cattle on foot.

***

Background: our neighbor to the north has cows. In the literal, rather than the Bart Simpson sense.

The herd has grazed the slopes of Mauna Kea, including our little speck of it, for many years. And until recently, there were few limits to where they could go.

But then we moved in and started messing with them. 

We started by planting trees, each inside its own little protective fence. The cows tolerated those minor inconveniences—leaving the fencing intact (mostly) and the trees standing (mostly). 

This encouraged us! So we built a larger, more substantial enclosure for geese and chickens.

That too was accepted by the herd, which made note of the change and began walking around it (though we know they could walk right through it any time they choose to). So far they've chosen not to!

It was all going so well.

Recently the dogs and I returned from running errands in town. We were heading down the hill toward the house when I saw the cows, at least a dozen of them, inside the fenced acre around our house.

"No. No! NO, HELL NO!"

Note: yelling at cows from inside a truck is ineffective. Additionally, yelling at them from *outside* a truck is pretty much a waste of time as well.

I parked the truck near the house and pointedly did not let the dogs out. The last thing the situation needed was three dogs gleefully chasing cows around until getting gored or kicked or stepped on.

My first, hyperventilated attempt to herd the herd out the gate went poorly. Turns out waving one's arms and saying "Get the fuck out of here!!" is not tactically sound—though it did briefly cause some low-key havoc as cows peeled off this direction and that, ending up all around me instead of in front of me.

It occurred to me then that the neighbors to the south were probably looking down the hill at the situation and laughing hysterically. And who could blame them? Still, the thought made me self-conscious enough to stop flailing around and at least try to be smarter than the cows.

You know what I needed? A shepherd's stick. I mean, obviously.

Unfortunately, we don't own a shepherd's stick—but we did have the trunk of a long-defunct Christmas tree laying around. No, I don't know why.

I picked it up and started wielding it like someone who doesn't know what he's doing, but knows *something* must be done.

I opened the gate and, using the holiday-themed tree trunk, coaxed not one, not two, but three cows out the gate!

"This is gonna be easy!" I thought, 100% incorrectly.

The thing is, in order to coax additional cows out, the gate has to be open. But if the gate is open, the cows on the outside COME RIGHT BACK IN.

So much for plan B.

Fortunately, we have another gate. It's situated downhill from our lone, small outbuilding, and opens out, partway across a little gully. Which means, when it's open, cows wanting to get back into the yard have to go across the gully and up a slight rise. They can still get in but it takes time, during which I'm already encouraging another cow or two to leave.

Also, the presence of the shed effectively creates two downhill chutes to the gate, preventing the cows from peeling off and back into the yard. I now had A System™ in place, and it was just a matter of time before the cows were on the outside looking in.

That's when I glanced over at the other gate, just in time to see Bambi, the bull, force his way in between the gate and the post it was hooked to. Dude just decided he wanted in and viola! He was in...along with a couple of his lady friends.

In that moment, I became grouchy. I was tired of chasing cows around and definitely did not want to re-litigate cases I'd already won.

The cows expressed their appreciation for my concern by walking through flower beds, bulldozing banana trees, and pooping everywhere.

I brought The System™ to a halt, yelled at Bambi, and re-secured the gate top AND bottom. Later, I had to smack him on the butt when he parked himself halfway in/halfway out of the gate—for a second time. He was oblivious. Bambi is an imposing figure in the pasture, but he's not very bright.

TL/DR, eventually all the cows were repatriated to their homeland. The last one to go was Poppy, who is completely endearing and completely blind. Poppy startles easily, and telling her "We're going this way, Poppy!" is futile. Hard to believe, I know.

Nevertheless, she and I eventually found our way to the proper side of the fence, and she later ate sweet cob out of my hand. So I guess there were no hard feelings.

The entire exercise took nearly an hour, and it was exhausting.

So, we've decided to offer the experience as a cross-training workout to future guests!

No charge, bring poop-proof shoes.

***
Epilogue: our *other* neighbor, to the east, also has cows.

Recently several of them broke through *their* fence, causing a red alert from the neighbors to the north, who headed out on ATVs like a swarm of bees. Separating individuals from each herd via ATV was akin to herding cats—but eventually the riders got the job done on foot! 

We'll 100% be referring them to our instructional video, now in pre-production.