We heard the screams from one mile away this Saturday morning. The Johnson brothers and I were already headed in that direction as fast as our Keds Tennis shoes would travel. We were somewhat used to screams on Birren Avenue. Rowdy younger kids were prone to screaming in the area. But this scream sound was foreign. Sounded like grown women but very tough women. Sounded kinda like a feminine growl which sent shivers up our back. It was mushroom season and we were afraid those screams were territorial warnings. Kinda like a female lion warning guys to stay away from her cub. Not a good sound when you’re ten years old... not a good sound even at 30 years old. We ran directly toward certain death. We figured they were poaching our sacred mushroom plot.

Mushroom hunting was a cutthroat adventure and a high point in a kid’s year (outside of Christmas). We had to cross a cut cornfield on the way (a must-do to get outside of town). We were halfway through the field when we noticed five humongous cows and one baby calf…another bad sign. Thinking fast we dropped onto our bellies and made a perfect circle of defense. Cows must have thought we were predators and slowly walked toward us in their own circle of defense. Another bad sign. They circled us tightly breathing on the back of our necks with hot steamy cow breath and a deathly Moo in our ears. Buttface became petrified and his defense was a Moo back in belch speaking. This startled three of the 2200 hundred-pound cows and they started pawing the ground about three inches from our heads. We lay there like earthworms on the damp cold ground. 

Then the little calf, apparently liking the Buttface belch, squeezed in between the big mamas and licked Buttface on his right cheek. Ah, a good sign we all thought. It’s really important to notice a good sign at a time like this. The calf decided to sit on Buttface’s back which suppressed his breathing ability but stopped his belching cow speak…a relief to all in the growing circle. After a few short minutes, the kind calf relieved itself in the middle of the belch idiot’s back. It was warm and brown and really gooey—kinda like stout pancake batter. All the cows walked away immediately. Even cows can get embarrassed for an idiot that belches with calf poop covering his back. 

We learned that very day to stay upright while amongst cows and just run normally towards our mushroom claim. Cows are not afraid of humans that normally are milking them. We left the tough women to their temporary delight of stealing our mushrooms. We would be back another Saturday to gather our mushrooms…as long as there were no screaming and curious cows. We lead Buttface to my folks garden hose which drew a rather large crowd. We let Buttface do all the explaining. We smiled and he didn’t. A garden hose always has really cold water in May.

Hug your children and hug the cows and with a clean T-shirt, love your neighbor.