Poupette the cow eyes my tulips

I had too little sleep last night or I would have remembered this before finding it in my camera this morning. I was pulling weeds yesterday afternoon when I realized there was a tremendous clanging of cowbells in the field above me. I looked up and the fighting cows were head-butting and pushing each other ferociously. First two, then another couple joined in and pretty soon the whole frisky herd was clanging and bellowing. Some chased others and clouds of dust rose, despite ground damp from rain. One suddenly leaped over the fence and hurried down the meadow towards me and my tulips. She was clearly more interested in eating than fighting.

Bernard the farmer was off making cheese and frankly, I'm not brave when it comes to chasing large cows back over a fence, especially up a steep hill.

She and I eyed each other, then she eyed my red tulips. There was some luscious green grass under her nose, so she started on that and slowly worked her way towards the tulips. I was so unnerved by her very large presence (I've seen her and her pals run and they can move) that I didn't notice I'd set the camera on black and white. The red tulip in front would have been nice.

Bernard arrived and eyed the herd. "They're in heat," he said, with satisfaction. And he went off to bellow and chase them; one day I will ask him if cows are hard of hearing. If anyone knows, please tell me, as I often wonder this, listening to him shouting at them to come in or settle down or stop being so stubborn.

He came back for Poupette, who by now had wandered just a few feet from my tulips. He gave her a little treat and rubbed her fondly on the snout, then tapped her shanks with a thin little stick and said "Allez, allez!", which is what men shout at soccer/football matches. The two trotted up the road together, man and happy beast, to the barn.