Hot Cows (An Anecdote Illustrating My Small Town Background)

I live in a city, but I am from a small town.
Recently I chatted with a friend about driving from the one to the other, and the discussion turned to traffic, which led us to compare the major obstacles encountered in the respective locales.
Here: Too damned many people trying to go the same place at the same time on the same road.
There: Occasionally meandering livestock.
Which reminded me of a story:

On a hot July day back in 2000, when I was at my first newspaper gig in my small South Georgia hometown, I was sent to take pictures of cows blocking one of the major downtown streets.
Only, the cows weren’t really blocking the street.
They were in a livestock trailer, and the truck hauling it broke down.
So, technically, the truck was blocking the street, and the cows were just along for the ride.
Anyway, it was taking a long time for the appropriate wrecker (the type that can tow a semi) to arrive.
And the cows were overheating.
So, the fire department came out.
And hosed down the cows.

I enjoy living in a city more than I enjoyed living in a small town, but I will always love small towns for exactly this sort of thing.

Interlude: 6/8/11

Just a few words here to break up the string of Wordless Wednesday posts.

I’m working on a couple of essay-ish posts now, but I’m not yet happy with them. More later, though, for sure.
Brief update on Liquid Pro Quo: So far, so good. I have only broken stride a couple of times, under the Rum ‘n’ Coke provision I outlined. Unfortunately, my prediction regarding that drink was accurate, which is to say, I have lost the taste. My once favorite booze-laden concoction now lands upon my palate as an overly sweet, fizzy, acidic mess. Pity. The quest for a go-to cocktail now commences.