Flat on my back. That is how I ended up, walking briskly across Deborah's field, the seemingly endless stretch in Davis Creek, still at the edge of the Monoc Forest where it meets Goose Lake. Leila met Deb at the Chamber of Commerce when we made that office our home for most of one afternoon, dodging freezing rain. A prevalent trend or is this cold cloud just hovering above us? I know now, it is not, but sometimes you take it personally.
Deb walks like she knows what she is doing. And she does. Alone, on land as far as the eye can see she owns horses, dogs, sheep, cows, and goats. Mostly her place is all about goats and their sweet, slightly tangy and earthy milk. I had never tasted fresh goat milk. She lives on it and so do her animals. The baby calf is less than a week old and I have the thrill of giving it a bottle. Not unlike a baby bottle scaled up by a factor of three or so, I tilt it upright and she slurps the half gallon of goat milk (yep, cows can grow up on goat milk) in minutes. She tries for your hand as a second alternative for food. Her blue tongue is tough but soft but I keep thinking she might decide to nibble any minute.
Anyway, as we crisscrossed Deb's land to check out the cows, the nesting sand hill crane, and the accompanying pelicans, her pack of cow dogs in their racing frenzy lifted me right off my feet. I went horizontal for a second then crashed flat down on my back. Knocked the wind out of me, but other than that and a few sore neck muscles this morning, I am fine.
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