Are these YOUR cattle?

Pamplona has nothing on Perymans Road, out near Lincoln. In the last week we have taken to cycling down here as an alternative to the main Tai Tapu - Lincoln Road where cars and trucks pass doing 120 km/hr. So in three rides we have twice encountered cattle. This time they were on the loose. First they ran ahead and then they ran behind us heading toward the main road. As an alternative to witnessing them cause an horrific road accident we used our mind melding powers to corral them into a nearby ploughed paddock where they seemed happy to run around and create a dust-storm.

The guy waiting for this paddock to be drilled, and despite not having shaved, got into his car and headed down in our direction. Winding down the window he asks "Are these your cattle?".

Now I have been accused of many things when I have ventured out in my colourful lycra on my trusty carbon-fibre steed, from being an intransigent pillow-biter to an androgynous sex god. But I have never been mistaken before for a cowboy.

We denied being the owners of these wanderlust-stricken beasts. The unshaven one said he would drive the cattle back in the direction from whence they had come. We cycled on toward Lincoln where we would have have our usual Sunday morning scone.
We were singing "Yi yi yippy yippy yi."