*WARNING – the following image may be disturbing to some viewers. Please be advised. (Again, I warned you!)
What is so disturbing about the above image? Well, let me tell you why.
As most of you know, Eric and I purchased a home and a building (that used to be a church) on five acres in the middle of Tennessee. Across the street from our property is a wide empty field. And beyond that, are many cows. There is one particular cow that seems to stray from the pack and sometimes finds herself on our property, chomping on the grass. I have named this pretty, wandering white cow Betty-Sue, after Eric’s first girlfriend and the last girlfriend he dated before me.
Anyways, back to my disturbing story. Out of all the five acres of land that Chance had to choose from to romp around in, he freely selected to rub the entire right side of his head, neck and a portion of his chest and right leg in a pile of cow poop.
Yes, that’s him after I discovered what he did when he came running up to me with such pride. I had to take his picture because he had not a care in the world. Even though he stunk to high heaven and I was running away from him, everything was right in the world for Chance.
pack = herd in farm speak.
if chance decides that he likes the flavor of his rub, bumble takes a pill to ward off the craving 🙂
ewwww. No, we will reroute some fencing around here to enclose it. So no more Betty-Sue pies.