I love animals, especially the young ones. On several occasions, I have had to stop and admire the beauty of young animals. I remember a day that I was admiring the beauty of some puppies without knowing that their mother was coming from the rear. The dog thought that I was an enemy. I had to take cover when it advanced aggressively toward me.
I don't relate to adult animals unless it is not a strange one. However, as for the young ones, whether familiar or strange, I love them, and I don't hide my admiration all the time. It was on this premise that I had an ugly experience with a cow one day.
I don't go close to cows, despite having them around me while growing up. We had herders as our neighbors on the farm when I was growing up. It was assumed then that the cows have their own language that is only understood by their master. Because of this belief, we hardly interact with the cows. I kept my distance from the cows, but many of the herdsmen were my close friends.
A friend of mine who was a herdsman invited me to the naming ceremony of his child, and I honored the invitation on that fateful morning. It was an early morning occasion. I was accompanied by another friend, Yaya. We joined other well-wishers to witness the naming ceremony. We were served Wara and Fura de Nono, both diary products.
After the occasion, we set out on the four-kilometer trek back to our abode. Just about a kilometer into the trek, I saw two calves under a tree along the narrow path that we were following. The whiteness of the calves was sparkling. Immediately, I set my eyes on them; I couldn't take them off. I called Yaya's attention to the young, beautiful animals. We stood for a few seconds, admiring the calves. I was wondering what brought the animals there without their mother.
I went closer to the calves to see them more closely and take a picture of them. I gave Yaya my phone to snap me and the calves while I posed with them for the picture. He barely took a picture when he screamed on top of his voice for me to run. He told me that the adult cow was approaching at high speed. I looked behind me and saw the heavy cow with intimidating horns coming towards us with obvious aggression.
Yaya and I ran in different directions to save ourselves from any harm from the cow. Instead of stopping over at the tree where the calves were, the cow continued pursuing me with speed. The sound of the claws hitting the ground was audible to me as I ran for my life.
When it was obvious that the cow would catch up with me if I continued running in a straight direction, I began to run in a zigzag manner and finally found a group of shrubs that I hid behind. I was calmly squatting behind the shrubs when I saw the cow run past me. After losing sight of me, the cow stood for a few minutes, looking for me in all directions. It finally went back gently in the direction that we came from. When I realized that it was time for me to come out of the shrubs, I did.
I was panting heavily. I had never run into such a tense and scary situation. It took me almost an hour of trekking before I found my way back home.
I met Yaya standing at a spot along the way, waiting for me. I reconnected with him, and we got home a few minutes later.
The experience taught me that animals can aggressively protect their young ones against any perceived danger. Whoever they see go close to their young ones could be taken as an enemy, so I have learned to keep a distance from the young animals.
