Cows

When most people think of cows they think of milk, or that awful stench that comes from too many cows shoved into a transport trailer, or maybe even lush green Californian fields, the gentle beasts lowing about.

Me, I think of my father. No really. I remember him teaching me to rope cattle, and by cattle I mean a hay bale with a pair of horns tied to the top of it. I remember riding in the back of the tractor, kicking the bales off to feed the cows. I remember the cowgirl hat that I wish I still had that was many sizes too big.

How many people do you know who would admit that when they smell cows (and their.. poo) they think of their Dad?

Now you know one.