Mary, your days are numbered . . .

A quick peek out to the east pasture and our backyard revealed our three happy cattle chomping away at grasses. A not so quick second peek registered that one of the threesome was actually in our backyard, and much less so in the east pasture. Freaking out I grabbed the phone to call Phil, and simultaneously ran to pound on the door to my dad's home. I got Phil's voicemail, but thankfully my dad's face, "Mary's out! Mary's out! Mary's out!" Dad met me in the backyard where I was erratically (wasting time) looking for the grain, not so ready to ford the pokies in my flip flops. I sort of tried to suggest to Dad that we should just corral Mary until Phil got home . . . thankfully Dad was not phased. And then, lickity-split, Dad got Mary back in the pasture. I was kind and left Phil a follow up voicemail.