deathpixie | NanoWriMo 2009

Back when my favourite aunt was fourteen and living on her parents' farm, she wanted a horse. Only, they couldn't afford one. So she trained one of the cows, a mild-mannered Jersey cow that they'd gotten for milking, to take a rider. She'd put a halter on it and climb up using a fence and ride this cow around the paddocks. The cow didn't seem to mind, possibly because my aunt is a tiny little thing even now.

A local newspaper journalist came to do a piece on my grandfather's cane basketry business. As he was chatting away, my aunt trundled by on the back of the cow.

The next day, instead of an article about the business, the newspaper had an article about a local girl and her cow-riding habits. There was a photo and everything.