Sorry, Moo Friends, But We're Not the Feed Truck

The other day Steve and I went out exploring in our white truck. The countryside was stunning. It was tranquil, quiet, and peaceful. 

Until suddenly mooooing cows, acting somewhat demanding and territorial, came running out of the woodwork, er, bushes and trees.

And they kept coming closer, checking us out, some of them drooling and still mooooing.

Hey, we're sorry. We took a wrong turn. We are not your feed truck. (Most feed trucks are white.)

All we have are a few red licorice sticks, a half eaten bag of edamame, a banana, an apple, dog treats, and water for people and dogs.

Um, no, serious, that's all we have. Mooove along now. Nobody gets hurt. We love cows. We love milk and hamburgs. Oops. Sorry. We love cows.