Ms. Jenny has been to the family farm on many occasions.  In fact, she’s considered one of the family and a trusted farmhand.

But there’s a dark side to her visits that we generally try to avoid discussing in mixed company.

It starts out innocent enough with a brief visit to see the adult pigs and to help with feeding and cleaning.

Now let’s be clear about this: Jenny’s not a large gal at all.  To be quite honest, she’s built low to the ground for speed and aerodynamics.  That means the adult pigs weighed more than she does.  In turn, that meant she had to behave with them since they could easily mow her down.

But then it was on to the juvenile pigs.

Again, the visit started out innocent enough with much petting and laughing and visiting, and even one of the younger swines leaning against her for a bit of affection.

But woe is the pig who messes with little Ms. Jenny.  As we watched in horrified dismay, she proceeded to assert her human superiority by sticking her foot in the mouth of one of those innocent, young, impressionable pigs.

Oh the inhumanity!

That poor abused swine ended up emotionally scarred for life.  I mean… to have someone come marching into your home, pretend to be your friend, and finally stick their foot in your mouth…  How could the poor pig have come away from that experience unscathed?

[pictures via Mom]

The first time Derek visited my family’s farm, the consummate city boy found a world very much unlike any he had ever seen before—at least in person.  Even Mom remembers well her own surprise when he mentioned he’d never been on a dirt road prior to visiting our East Texas refuge.  This fact shocked all of us.  It also tickled us because the farm rests in the middle of nowhere, so dirt roads are more than common in the area.

Another thing that surprised us was his lack of experience with animals other than dogs and cats… and possibly birds.  He’d never been around anything larger than a German shepherd.  Boy, was he in for a surprise.

My parents and I guided him out of the house and to one of the pastures where some of the cows were milling about in late morning sunshine.  Derek was fascinated by the large beasts.  That wonder grew as they came to the fence to greet us.  Unfortunately, he was intimidated by the bovines and, although he stood near the fence, he would neither touch the cows nor allow them to touch him.  The poor New Yorker…  Frightened of a cow and unable to overcome his sheltered life.

Oh how we laughed!  His wide eyes and childlike gaze were fixed on those cows, especially the one that came right up to the fence where he stood, yet he couldn’t find the strength of will to reach out.

Over the years that followed, he slowly grew more sure of himself around the farm.  That doesn’t mean he completely won the battle with his own apprehension; he did make progress, though.

In posthumous remembrance of his 40th birthday today, more than two years after his death, I present to you Derek’s first visit to a farm—and his first encounter with a cow.  This is as close as he would get to it despite our prodding him with tales of woe about how much the cow wanted to be petted.

Happy birthday, Derek.  And don’t worry.  We’ll pet the cows for you.

[picture via Mom]