She Thinks She's a Rodeo Bull

Fiona is finally confined.  I hope so anyway. We went through several weeks of her escaping on a regular basis, even after my husband added a third electric wire to her fence.  Two or three nights we resorted to tying her to a tree.  The most interesting escape occurred when I was here alone making yogurt.  The milk was four degrees away from the correct temperature, and I was stirring constantly to keep it from scorching when I got the call from my mom, alerting me that Fiona was in her back yard.  What a dilemma!  I decided to finish the milk.  It took about five minutes.  Then I lit out for my mom's backyard.  No Fiona.  I searched the wide open field next door for a sign of her but found none, so I ran back to our house and discovered her in the garage.  This is the garage where my husband's delicate airplane project resides, as well as lots of other equipment/paraphernalia.  I chased her through a maze of buckets, ice chests, and bicycles, wincing as she galloped across the air compressor hose.  She exited the open garage door and took off to the north.  She sneaked through the "alley" between the dog's yard and Emma's bower, and I headed her off by the water pump.  She rolled her eyes, tossed her head, and performed her special Fiona leap, twist, and kick maneuver, slinging saliva in a long string.  I darted in and unsuccessfully made a grab for her halter.  Away she ran. . .back to the garage.  Luckily, she is a glutton.  I sneaked up on her while her head probed the depths of a trash can where we keep 50-pound bags of dog food.  I grabbed her halter easily this time; the struggle occurred when I tried to disengage her head from the bottom of the can where she was scarfing up dog food at warp speed.  I remembered her previous owner hinted that she could be a little "feisty" periodically.  Feisty?  The cow is wicked, possessed, evil.  Feisty ain't even close.

Emma finally figured out that Fiona was stepping through to freedom in a corner where there happened to be a few more inches of space between the top wire and the middle wire.  The bad bovine pouted for a couple of days once that escape hatch was fixed.  A few days later, Emma and I decided to take a walk through the pasture while we prayed the rosary.  When we walked along Fiona's fence, she came tearing over from the other side and walked with us.  "Holy cow!" I thought.  Maybe there's hope for her yet.