At 19 I knew little of country life, but became a Governess on a cattle property.
As Governess I was expected to teach lessons, and also to help with housework, cooking and other chores. One duty was to tie up the milking cow each afternoon in readiness for milking. The ‘milker’ possessed one wicked looking horn, but the Manager assured me she was harmless, and so I undertook this task for a few weeks without incident.
One afternoon I made my way to the shed and as I walked towards the milker she dropped her head and suddenly lunged towards me. I dodged behind a nearby fence, my heart pounding madly. Regathering my courage, I once more made my way towards her, but the beast charged me again. I dashed out of the yard and back to the house.
The Manager was unimpressed with my story and hinted at my town breeding. As we made our way back to the shed, the Manager mumbled under his breath. And there stood the old milker placidly chewing her cud and looking anything but menacing. The Manager threw me a scathing look and muttered a few choice words as he opened the gate and strode towards the cow.
Then his footsteps faltered and I noticed the milker slowly drop her head. Abruptly she lunged towards the Manager, her one horn aimed straight at his belly. With an almighty yell, the Manager was up and over the 6 foot fence in one huge leap, somehow just managing to keep his behind from being pierced. For a large man, it was an incredible jump.
The walk back to the house was very quiet. And after that, I was no longer required to tie up the milking cow. ©