5 Life Lessons From Being Trampled by the Demon Cow: Pt I

Nonni and Miss Elsa are currently in Reykjavik, so Alexa and I are manning the farm in their absence. It’s an honor. But it’s also a challenge.

We’re milking a new cow. She is

• unbelievably loud (we can hear her screaming in the fields from the house),
• impossibly stupid (she is the only cow that turns around and goes the opposite direction from the herd), and
• crazy unmanageable (we must tie her hind legs together whenever we milk her so she doesn’t kick our brains out).

The first night, all was going well. I hiked out to the fields and Tinna helped me round up the cows. (Side note: Tinna is a much better cowherd than shepherd.)

All 24 cows made it to the gate. My hopes flew high. I untied the bundt cord at the gate to let the cows begin their slow exodus to the barn. The new cow plodded in the middle! Amazing! I wouldn’t have to whack her down the line. So there I was, walking behind all the cows and thinking this was going to be easy. Then lo and behold, I rounded the barn corner behind them and who was standing right outside the door?

Crazy Cow.

She looked at me. She looked at the barn door. “Come on,” I coaxed.

Lesson 1: Evil cannot be persuaded.

Crazy Cow wigged out, turned around, and galloped back the way she came. “Jesus, not now!” I prayed as I chased her.  She ran all the way back up to the field, and the dogs and I followed in hot pursuit. “Lord, please turn that cow around. Please. You calmed the sea and You silenced the wind. You can turn this cow around.”

He did not see fit. Eventually, I coaxed the cow back inside the gate. We turned around to go back and another cow had escaped. Perhaps the chaos had elicited in her a sick fascination similar to that which besets some people while driving by car accidents on the interstate.

Back down we went. We finally reached the barn door and then it happened all over again, only this time I was chasing two cows up the mountain. By the time I finally coaxed both cows back down through the gate, I was dizzy and nauseous and thinking hurling was inevitable. But I innocently thought this was the last time.

I should never have hoped so high. In a burst of enthusiasm, Tinna lunged at Crazy Cow and then things went haywire. Crazy Cow stampeded through the makeshift fence near the barn, almost escaping. But I grabbed her collar and I started screaming my head off as she dragged me up the hill.

Lesson 2: Screaming doesn’t help.

The cow panicked and took flight. I would have let go, only my arm was twisted in her collar. So I bounced over the rocky ground alongside her, both of us screaming, and one of us about to lose her stomach.

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Stay tuned for part 2! Don’t forget to follow Devin Leigh Snyder to receive a notification every time I update!

**DISCLAIMER: The events in this article are not exaggerated, but my life was not at stake.**