Ate My Fence

That is all.

The electric fence?

wpskier222 wrote:

The electric fence?

The electric invisible fence.  Yep.  They stick there heads under the pasture fence - "the grass is always greener..." and munched on my wire.  Woke up to "blat blat blat"  Like a smoke alarm   Fortunately, that was one of my first suspicions and the fix is easy.  Though I now only have one spare waterproof connector so will have to order some more.

I have a cow phobia because when I was little, we went to a farm on a school trip and one ate like have the dress I was wearing. It's head was the size of my entire upper body.

Lol aww that's terrible Amy maybe rub something unappetizing on the fence??

Cow phobia Jen? Lol it sounds funny but if I were little and have a giant cow try to eat me id be scared too!! I grew up next to a ranch, although they bred race horses there were cows in a huge fenced area and my dog at the time (fox hound mix) Alicia would crawl under the fence and try to chase a baby cow until the mom saw and they stampeded her outta there..fastest I've ever seen a dog run to this day!! Lol

Ha ha! I grew up riding and love horses, but cows make me shudder.

Lol same here I'm not too fond of cows either

I grew up around cows. They were as much pets as our dogs and horses were. They will eat about anything. My parents had the wired electric fence for their bird dogs and it was always being cut by the cows or squirrels.

Cows can be ridden the same as a horse. While not as comfortable or majestic they are quite good at carrying a load. My uncle has longhorns and we used to ride them, saddled and all.

When we lived with my grandmother (and grandfather) he was a dairy farmer - meaning most of the "disposable income" came from the milk the cows produced.  Gran'pa Tommy died when I was 8 but I have many fond memories of going to the barn with him.  He hand milked (yeh, it was that far back!) something like 25 head and in between watching him spray the cats (who then proceeded to lick the milk off themselves - with gusto!) and getting a cup of *very fresh* milk all the memories are good.

My grandmothers brother and SIL had the farm next to us and one time when I'd gone over there, Unc' Willie gave me a stool and a bucket (and I'd probably asked to "help" him milk his cows) and set me down by a gentle old cow.  Obviosly *I* wasn't being gentle enough because it wsn't long before she decided she'd had enough of *this* nonsense and kicked.  Picking up the stool and the now empty bucket I head back to Uncle Willie who (with a straight face) asked me what happened.  "Well, Uncle Willie, the old cow, she up and kicked the bucket!"  At about 6ish, I did have to have someone explain why Uncle Willie and Aunt Beulah were rolling on the floor!!

Yeh, damn cows and great memories!!

aljones wrote:

Yeh, damn cows and great memories!!

My mom, to this day, fondly remembers being in the barn while her dad milked - and getting a squirt in the mouth, straight from the cow...me? I stayed with these grandparents as a little girl. They got their milk at that time from my aunt's cows. It did NOT look or taste like milk from the store which we drank at home. I wouldn't drink it and my poor grandparents (who, btw, really were poor) had to drive miles and miles to get to a store to buy milk for their spoiled little city grand-daughter )

And my aunt? With the dairy herd? Well, she had a barn...with an up the ladder hay loft. Which I followed my cousins up. Coming down? No way - the cows, all with horns, were in the barn, waiting to be milked. One look at those horns below me....uh huh, now way! Thank you, Auntie Blanche, for carrying me down. I'm afraid I might still be there if you had not come after me

My father used to have all these farm type animals, including a goat. He was leaving for a vacation and left me in charge of milking a goat, ugh...it felt too weird so I didn't do it...after like 3 days the goat was looking kinda fat and my father had arranged for a family friend to come check on things (me) while he was gone. Apparently if you don't milk a goat daily, the milk hardens in them ? So I got lectured on responsibility I know, has nothing to do with fences or cows, lol...just thought if add a milking experience, haha

Artic_Wind wrote:

My father used to have all these farm type animals, including a goat. He was leaving for a vacation and left me in charge of milking a goat, ugh...it felt too weird so I didn't do it...after like 3 days the goat was looking kinda fat and my father had arranged for a family friend to come check on things (me) while he was gone. Apparently if you don't milk a goat daily, the milk hardens in them ? So I got lectured on responsibility I know, has nothing to do with fences or cows, lol...just thought if add a milking experience, haha

Having been a "cow" to 3 kids, that goat has my utmost sympathy!

amymeme wrote:

My mom, to this day, fondly remembers being in the barn while her dad milked - and getting a squirt in the mouth, straight from the cow...me?  I stayed with these grandparents as a little girl.  They got their milk at that time from my aunt's cows.  It did NOT look or taste like milk from the store which we drank at home.  I wouldn't drink it and my poor grandparents (who, btw, really were poor) had to drive miles and miles to get to a store to buy milk for their spoiled little city grand-daughter )

And my aunt?  With the dairy herd?  Well, she had a barn...with an up the ladder hay loft.  Which I followed my cousins up.  Coming down?  No way - the cows, all with horns, were in the barn, waiting to be milked.  One look at those horns below me....uh huh, now way!  Thank you, Auntie Blanche, for carrying me down.  I'm afraid I might still be there if you had not come after me

Oh, bad thread!! Amy, I was just the opposite; having grown up on raw milk and then moving to the city - my only response was "this stuff *is not* milk!" Even though it's almost impossible to get anymore, I still much prefer milk that you have to shake to get the cream mixed back in.

Hay lofts - this is a "don't get me started" topic. Of course, having cows in NY state my grandfather had a hay loft and when we were kids, it wasn't bailed hay, it was loose hay. We'd climb up to the rafters and jump off into the hay - and my grandmother got slightly upset when we decided to use her good (her only!) umbrella for a parachute.

aljones wrote:

Hay lofts - this is a "don't get me started" topic.  Of course, having cows in NY state my grandfather had a hay loft and when we were kids, it wasn't bailed hay, it was loose hay.  We'd climb up to the rafters and jump off into the hay - and my grandmother got slightly upset when we decided to use her good (her only!) umbrella for a parachute.

When Josh was, oh, maybe 4 or 5, one summer, after returning from the Experiemental Aircraft Assoc convention in Oshkosh, he came downstairs with some contraption built of cardboard, ribbon, tape and what not - I asked what it was and he said it was an ultralight. Then went outside. A few minutes later, light dawns on Marblehead and I go racing to the woodpile - which we stacked to about 6 ft high and was, at times, rather rickety.

Yup there he was, climbing up the woodpile, preparing to jump, with his cardboard contraption tied to his back Sounds like you gave your grandmother as many gray hairs as my son gave me...