We used to get our milk from one of the crofts in the village. The crofter had one or two milk cows and at times a cow would get the 'urge'. My father, the village blacksmith, was very friendly with the crofter and used to help him out on Saturday afternoons which was his half day off from the smithy. More than once I had known him to take one of the cows to visit the bull. The bull was owned by a big farmer two miles outside the village and arrangements had to be made to use its services. This particular Saturday when I would have been twelve years old my father took me with him.

We walked the cow to one of the farm fields and waited for the bull to arrive. Who should appear but a young Land Girl leading the bull. My father told me to clear off back to outside the fence and had words with the girl which I could not hear. The bull was let loose, the Land Girl found something to look at in the other direction and the bull got on with what it had to do.

The girl put her rope on the bull and marched it away and we took a happy cow home. As a twelve year old boy I found it a bit of a giggle, and I’m sure the young girl was a bit embarrassed. There was not a great deal of chat between her and my father but I have often wondered what was said, I did not have the nerve to ask him.

Submitted by Stoker2