I think I am a cow whisperer.

I know! I am just as surprised as you are!

All this time, I have been under the impression that my sister, Lowi, is the only person I know who can draw animals to themselves like a magnet. She is the Snow White of her animal menagerie– so beloved that wild deer are drawn to her, lick her sliding glass doors, and want to move inside and take over one of her kids’ bedrooms.

But a few weeks ago, we had a fleeting three inches of snow, and I thought it was the perfect time for a winter walk. John and I went to a local park to take in the quiet that only fresh snow can bring. It’s probably my favorite thing about snow… well, that, and it’s a good excuse to wear cute hats.

Anyway, one of our favorite paths is adjacent to a cow farm, and as luck would have it, they were all out and grazing in the part of the farm closest to the park. As a joke, I called out to them, shouting sweet compliments in their direction.

Fairly quickly, they began a steady migration toward me. I was equal parts shocked and elated.  I laughed and thought, “Wow, the DNA really is strong.”  To explain, a phenomenon occurs when my sisters and I are together, especially in a large group, such as a wedding or graduation. Invariably, someone, or more than one someones, will ask us if we are sisters and then oddly marvel at how similar in voice, appearance, or otherwise we are.

One particularly amusing time, a young woman leaned across a kitchen island to inquire if Lowi was my sister. I confirmed she was, and she took on the funniest look of awe and, in a slightly hushed tone, said the now famous (at least to us) phrase, “The DNA is strong.”

Since then, multiple interactions have solidified this idea. Not the least of which is that we possibly have an animal whisperer, snow white, type gene floating around in our double helices.

Clearly, you can understand when a herd of cattle swiftly moved toward me just at the sound of my voice; I pondered, maybe I am, in fact, fluent in a second language– you know, heifer-ese.

In the great cosmic joke that life can be sometimes, naturally, that would be my gifted mother tongue.

But I digress. Here I was out of the frozen tundra (ok, it was just a park with a light dusting of snow), and the cows were heeding my call. I felt special and powerful until my husband mused that they likely just equated my mere humanness with the idea they were about to be fed. 

SSSSSSS. Yes, that’s the sound of the air quickly flying out of my hopes and dreams balloon. We all need a level-setter in our lives. One who keeps us on terra firma. It would seem my life partner plays that role for me.

But I haven’t given up the idea that I have a special gift. Of course, I wasn’t in the talented and gifted program as a kid, so I don’t have much evidence. But I believe that when people refer to me as “special,” they are in awe of my magical gifts and do not use it as a pejorative term. How could it be the latter? 

Ahem, as I was saying…

I have decided to let you, kind reader, be the judge of my hoofed friends and determine if it is a gift or a gag.

Take a look and see what you think.