Salt was a black and white spawn of Lucifer. She would kick while being milked just for the pure exhilaration of intimidation. She kicked occasionally at my husband Keith but always at me, at least once a milking.
Then one dark and stormy day, I was walking behind her, far away from her personal space, or so I thought, carrying a broom, when she nailed me ! She aimed her back leg at my chest, hoof curled into a meat hook shape and let fly. I knew her intentions were murderous and I saw my life glow before my eyes. (I am 51, my life doesn't really FLASH before my eyes at much speed).
She missed. Instead of hitting me mid-sternally as I know she had intended she hit the broom I was holding, snapping it as the crafty lioness might snap off the head of a graceful gazelle. Hear it ? SNAP!! In half. I was standing there, mouth open with two pieces of a broom stick in either hand.
Not too long after this event Salt died a natural and peaceful death. That's my story and I am sticking to it like Aunt Jemima's Syrup to a 3 yr olds face. Keith buried her but it was hot that summer and perhaps the grave could have been deeper. Perhaps. The dogs showed up one day with a momento from Salt. We returned it to its resting place. They unearthed it again. Keith buried it. It appeared again, at my back door.
Great. Now this spiteful and ugly souled creature is haunting me. Fine. I'm always looking for new ways to pretty up my garden. Take that Salt.
And stop staring at me you RUDE COW !!
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