As such, I want to honor one of our Corriente cows. Her name is Brindle.

We chose that name from the coloring pattern in her hide.

While an applicable name, it’s not very creative, I know. But keeping a sizeable herd that rotates in and out year after year sometimes requires resorting to the obvious.

Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of National Aggravating Cow Day.

I just made it up.

I needed a way to pay homage to Brindle.

She has displayed excellent leadership qualities: Show up with a bucket of pellets and she’s first in line. The other cows, then, dawdle along following her lead.

Brindle also has demonstrated a few qualities most humans respect: Fearless pursuit for the better things in life. Curiosity unsurpassed in many species. Desire to push through barriers in search of her quest. Regard for the traditions of routines and laws of nature.

These wonderful traits also make Brindle one giant pain in the butt.

You see, Brindle bows to that age-old universal decree of nature that the grass is always greener on the other side.

This means her fearless pursuit and curiosity galvanized her into pushing through the barriers we erected to keep her in. Our many downed fences attest to her search for greener pastures.

Usually in the wee hours of the morning.

Or when it’s raining.

Or right before we’re scheduled to go away.

Or when our 4-wheeler battery is dead.

In short, life with Brindle has been double, double toil and trouble.

So, she left us today. A cattle hauler friend of ours picked her up. We watched until his taillights hit the main road before we exhaled breaths I think we’d held for months.

Usually, our female cows are here many years. We sell our male cows (bulls) when they’re young, to show business. That sounds so much better than saying rodeos, or that they’re going to be chased and roped in an arena for the rest of their lives, doesn’t it?

Then again, it beats the slaughterhouse.

So, Brindle’s headed to Texas where the barriers are spread farther apart than here. Instead of 340 acres, she’ll have a couple thousand on which to explore.

And she’ll live happily ever after.

More importantly, everyone will be happier:

• Three of our neighbors.
• The drivers she’s inconvenienced on the road at the end of our lane.
• The cop who stopped to help with traffic twice.
• Joe’s cousin Gene who has helped us get her back in numerous times.

But it got me to thinking (because writers have this annoying tendency to look for metaphors and allegories in every experience): How often do we encounter people with exemplary or quirky traits or abilities that might perplex us, but which might allow them to shine and grow if they were placed in a different setting?

It’s easy for us to cavalierly assume that one day those individuals might find their niche.

Or, that God put them in that “wrong” place for a reason.

Or, that they’re just too doggone weird to fit in.

I don’t know the answers to that.

But I do know I intend to be a bit more encouraging to these “outcasts.”

Perhaps a few kind words of comfort and reassurance will help them find their perfect Texas too.

It’s got to be better than remaining an aggravating Brindle.