Cowherds…

… or Cow (h) erds?  Bit of both really!  I was walking through the veg patch and I heard a moo!  that was a bit close I thought. so I went to the front gate to check what was in the fields….

… and there they were.  A herd of cattle, including young.  Yesterday morning, on the way back from the post office, walking along the river, I noticed a herd on the opposite bank.  Had they walked (swam) across?  YES!

Unbelievable.  That they had replicated the journey of cattle hundreds of years ago when the cottage was on the droving trail from west Wales to the cities of Birmingham and London. To avoid the toll over the (old) bridge, the herders walked them across the river and the cattle rested and fed on the surrounding fields.  Exactly what we were seeing.

We alerted Buzz (the kitchen fitter) who alerted the farmer, who appeared on his quad bike (complete with son on the back, grimly hanging on for his life) and apologised.  Turned out to be Jamie.

After much fuss and noise, he herded them to the adjoining gateway, but they wouldn’t go through, so he tempted them with an empty feed sack and they followed him to the river bank; so we went to see them swim back.  He clearly was having more difficulties, so he requested out help to herd them to a crossing point.  Any idea how big a cow is?  Let’s just say “very”.  We had to stand in the way and wave, holler, shout, jump, perform cartwheels, anything to avoid them advancing.

Between us, we tried several times at various points, and with various strategies to encourage them to go back, but without success.  Then, just as we were giving up, one cow took the risk, and of course the rest followed. Phew!