I watched with amusement as a party balloon settled among the cows. It was one of those helium-filled balloons that probably escaped some far distant birthday party, leaving a 5-year-old girl in tears and arriving here some days later for my entertainment.
The cows treated it like some kids in a pool with a beach ball would do. But they soon lost interest and went on about the business of being cows—except, that is, for one cow.
She saw the long ribbon tied to the balloon as something to be eaten. The ribbon in turn acted as a piece of unwaxed dental floss and soon became lodged between the teeth of the aforementioned bovine.
That’s when the entertainment began.
As she took a step forward, she eyed with suspicion the balloon that seemed to be following her. Another step, then three, and then four. All the while, the balloon was keeping a steady pace. Nerves became rattled, and she began to run. The faster she ran, the faster the balloon ran and then she turned in the direction of the herd.
As she let out a distress sound to warn the others of their impending doom, heads went up, tails over their backs, and the entire herd turned to flee.
The last I saw of my cows, they were headed east at a full run, being chased by a party balloon of a 5-year-old little girl. I hope she had fun at her party. I know it was fun for me.