Vicious cows

Blimey, Oxfordshire is full of menace. So much so, that I am now sorely tempted to kick the tenants out of my London house and go back to somewhere civilised.

I can hear you asking with deep concern "What the blazes has happened to you?"

"I nearly got killed by vicious cows" I answer, still quaking from my near-death experience.

Here's what happened; I donned my new country wellies, you know, the posh ones with 'munters' across the front (ok mine are fake), and decided to take Naughty George on a tried and tested walk around Forest Hill (the one where I always encouter a dog called DOG01A). Everything was going swimmingly until I entered the second field and encountered a herd of cows.

'WOAH! where have these cow things come from?' was my first thought. 'They shouldn't be walking around doing nothing, they should be shrink-wrapped on an Asda chilled shelf'.

'Do they operate a field rotation scheme?' was my second.

'Sh*t they are charging at Naughty George!' was my third.

Literally the whole herd seemed to take umbridge at my mutt and 'stormed' him. I tried waving my arms at them, but they were in full flight, and I ran back to the stile full pelt shouting 'NAUGHTY GEORGE! RUN QUICKLY BEFORE YOU PERISH!'

Naughty George luckily realised the gravity of the situation and made a mad dash for the safety, skidding under the bottom of the fence just as the first aggressive hoof hit previous 'head location'.

The whole episode got me thinking a bit actually. Maybe fields should have signs on them (a bit like lorries) which say 'Is this cow behaving courteously? If not, call 0800 644 8882.' At least farmers would be aware of their dangerous cows, and could get them enlisted on a cow training safety course.


In order to escape the murdering cows, I ended up having to take a detour through 'crops' and spent at leat 30 minutes in a field full of yellow flowers trying to detour the vicious bovines. [I now digress slightly in order to solve the British agriculteral crisis] Is it me? But the last supermarket I went in didn't have a 'yellow flower' section. Maybe that's why English farmers whinge so much about being skint.


Finally, I spotted a way out of the field and ran........ as quickly as I could with Naughty George follwing. Ha ha! "Vicious cows. I aint scared of you!"