HOLY COW!

The year was 1951 and my mom, Betty Jean Robbins was living away from home for the first time in Dallas, TX  She grew up in Wills Point Texas where her dad was a farmer/rancher.  Her siblings, a brother Otis and a sister Ola were quite a bit older than her and she would tell me stories later about how her only friends during the summer were the farm animals since they didn’t live in town.   She particularly liked the cows.  She didn’t like the chickens because more often than not they weren’t around that long before becoming dinner.   

My dad, G.G. LaFave, who was nicknamed Frenchy was in the Air Force and had just returned from a stint in Korea and was in Dallas when he spotted this beautiful, vivacious redhead across the room.  He pursued her relentlessly according to my mom and on July 4, 1952 they were married.  Her dad was not a big fan of her choice of mate and so wouldn’t attend the wedding.  I know this hurt my mom deeply and she still would tear up talking about it 50 years later. 

He did, however give them a wedding gift.  That gift was a cow.  They sold it and used the money to pay the preacher and to start their new life together.

Fast forward 50 years.  The year is 2002 and they are about to celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary. 

A few years before that, my mom had finally realized her dream of having a “barn” where people could gather and sing to the Lord.  My mom’s voice was not that great (sorry mom) but she sang from the heart.  On this blogsite you will find a link to her singing “I’m drinking from my saucer Lord, cause my cup has overflowed”.  She started every barn show with this.  You see, it always bothered her that only the best singers got the chance to perform at Church.  And she wanted a place where anyone that felt the desire to sing for the Lord could.  It didn’t matter if they could carry a tune.  If they wanted to sing, they were welcome to do so at the barn.  As the Gospel Barn evolved, she had really good singers and groups to perform.  And so the “start up” singers and those who fell into the category of “one song is probably enough” lol were put on the Pre-show.  That’s where I always performed.

My dad had resisted the pleadings of my mom for years to build her a gospel barn.  As his story goes, he was driving to Oklahoma City one day to make a shipment of trencher parts and the Lord spoke to him so clearly that he had to pull over as to not wreck the truck.  He recalled the Lord saying, I have blessed you beyond measure Frenchy LaFave and it’s time for you to give Betty what her heart desires.  That very day, my dad sold some cattle he had invested in and within a few weeks the barn was up and running.

So, the 50^th wedding anniversary party invites had gone out and several people were coming to the barn to celebrate.  Connie and I got busy working on the party plans.  None of us kids had a clue though what to get them for a gift.  My dad and mom had traveled all over the world so a vacation wasn’t a good idea.  What do you give the couple who had all they wanted?

And then, one day I spotted a metal cow outside a shop along Hwy 69 in Muskogee.  I knew that the cow would be a perfect gift for the barn since that was her most cherished gift from 50 years prior.  And what a perfect setting for a cow…the gospel barn.  And so, my siblings and I pooled our money and bought the cow.  When it came time to present them with their gift, they were quite surprised when the cow was brought in and put on the stage. 

My mom, being a little corny like me, LOVED the cow.  She put it in the back of the barn and put a sign on it that said, WelCOWme to the Gospel Barn.  Another time it had a sign that said we UDDERLY appreciate your donations.  That was the other thing that made the barn special. No fee was ever charged to come and hear the music.  They might take a collection periodically and give the money to one of the groups to help with their travel expense.  But other than the slight markup on refreshments, the barn was completely financed by their own funds.

When my mom died in December of 2004, after having performed for the last time only a few weeks before, the barn became a difficult reminder of the joy that had resided there and he quickly donated or sold off all the pews, and equipment and decorations and turned it into a warehouse.  I told him that under no circumstances was he to give the cow away.  That the cow was special and that as long as I lived it would have a home with me.   So he hauled the cow 3 hours across the state and unloaded it into my backyard where it would stay for 8 years.

When I married Joe in 2012, and we moved into an RV, I sold almost everything I owned.  I adamantly refused though to even consider letting the cow go.  So we moved it with us, cramming it into the RV at the last minute every time we relocated.  At each RV park, I would go in and show the management a picture and get permission to have my metal pet.  Though they probably thought I was a little nuts, they always agreed. 

And the cow became a curiosity to the people in the RV park.  Joe would constantly get questioned when he was outside working in the yard as to whether it was a smoker.  He would patiently tell the story of the cow.  Occasionally,  he was just too impatient to tell the story and he would come inside and say, someone is asking about the  cow and I would run outside to tell the story because the story always made me smile.

One day I got a note on my door at one of the RV Parks that said the cow had to go because it was an eyesore.  I was devastated but then  I walked around the neighborhood taking pictures of yard gnomes, and pink flamingos and beat up patio furniture and then went to the office and told them that if the cow had to go, so did those things.  I got to keep the cow.

And the cow became the object of my humor.  For Christmas I would decorate it with lights and a sign that said Moo ry Christmas.  For Halloween, a pumpkin would sit atop and a sign that said Trick or Teat.

For Thanksgiving “Cow nt your blessings.

I leaned it against a tree with a sign that said Lean Beef.  I tipped it on its side with a sign that said Please don’t tip the cow, I put branches in its ear holes when we moved to Texas with a sign that said “longhorn wannabe”  Each time we moved I would put a sign that said We are MOOving.  When the teenage mutant turtles made a resurgence, I put a bandana and a sign that said Cowabunga. When the ice bucket challenge was popular, the cow got iced.  Dogs were posed on the cow, people were posed with the cow.  When OSU played, the sign read Go COWboys and the cow had an OSU hat.  For Valentines, heart stuck to the cow and I love you to the Moo n sign was posted. 

When we moved to Colorado, there was no room in the truck or the RV to take the cow and so I took her to my sister  Cownnie’s (lol) and the cow is currently residing in her backyard.  I’ve missed my cow and the fun I used to have thinking up sayings for her.  And so now that we will have 35 acres in Westcliffe and no one to get permission from, I am headed to Oklahoma soon to retrieve my cow. My cow will then reside at the front of the driveway and may become a planter again (as it was originally). 

Joe is super enthused (not) about having the cow come home.  LOL  He humors me.  I don’t think he thinks that my obsession with the cow is normal but then I’ve never been normal.