Cow Story No. 2 Last year, in Cow Story #1, a cow escaped over the barbed-wire fence and wandered into my backyard to get a drink from the heated birdbath. It was a high point in my life. I really wanted that cow for my very own, but considered that cattle rustling might still be illegal. I called the owners (my backyard neighbors) and told them about the fugitive beast. Casey arrived on the scene and positioned himself in the field with a white bucket of corn. His cows herded in for the tasty treat, as did my cow. On to Cow Story No. 2. I wanted to pet the cows this year, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got my own white bucket and three bags of elevator corn to lure the critters to the fence. The first time out, cow No. 25 was rambling around in the vicinity. I hefted my bucket of corn out the back door, to the fence and offered her a handful. She was afraid of me, but the corn won her over. Cows must lack depth perception, because No. 25 slobbered all around my hand and couldn’t find the corn. Finally I dumped some on the ground to avoid drowning in cow saliva. That’s when I got to pet her. I was a happy girl. The next day I went out and No. 25 came to the fence. She recognized me because we have something in common; naturally curly hair. Then, suddenly and without warning, the entire herd came thundering across the field. Keep in mind that all the cows are pregnant. Their bellies were swaying to and fro. They were running into each other. It was rather disconcerting. I didn’t get to pet anyone that day, because I was so busy trying to feed them and prevent cow-fighting. That afternoon the loving husband and I had to haul landscaping rock. As soon as we stepped out the back door, the cows thundered over to the fence, obviously expecting a mouth-watering morsel. The loving husband was disturbed. "Glenda, you’re causing cow-consternation," he warned. Frankly, I don’t think the cows even know they’re pregnant. How could they understand the meaning of consternation? As we plodded away with the landscaping project, I could feel the gaze of the herd following us with each load of rock. As we labored back and forth from the garage to the shed, the beasts stared, yearning for another savory snack. It was just pitiful. The following Saturday, I noticed that only seven cows were meandering around the field. That seemed manageable. Again I hefted a bucket of corn out to the fence. No. 25 and the other mothers-to-be trotted in for a snack. It went smoothly, no jockeying for position, no head-butting, just a nice leisurely lunch. And, I got to pet all seven of them. Recently, Rose (farm woman and cow owner) informed me that one of MY cows had twins. I was so proud. It is obvious to me that no novel could be as entertaining as my cow story, but Iris Johansen has a new title, "Firestorm," that looks good. For Kerry Murphy, the inferno is never far away. The flames of that long-ago night still burn in her nightmares: the heat, the choking smoke, and the helplessness. She can never run fast enough ...Now Kerry works as an arson investigator with her evidence-sniffing dog, Sam. Together they're a great team, but her life is about to change in the time it takes to strike a match. The deadly flames of her past are back, and from out of the ashes a stranger appears. Who is Silver? And why has he chosen her in the desperate race to find a killer determined to ignite hell on earth? To save themselves and the innocent lives at stake, Kerry will have to do what she hoped she'd never have to do: fight fire with fire.
