That morning I had extra company. Other than two cats, and four chickens that usually accompany me on that short journey up to our rural mail box, I was joined by the Terrorist. Stupid had left the gate open, and out had come one small jersey cow determined to make certain her hooman knew she was around. Other cows would head straight for the road and see you later. But not the Terrorist. No she decided her 'mummy' needed a hair trim. Next thing I know there she is beside me at the mail box eating my hair! OUCH! It hurt too. Worse were the horns sticking into my read end while I was trying to get the mail out. Then she decided to lick me with her sandpaper tongue.