Sarge was raised on a dairy farm. He recalls two main things about this - how truly beautiful the a clear sky before dawn is in the country and his father telling him, while knee deep in cow droppings, "You can go to college or you can do this. You choose." or something to that effect.
He chose college.
But every now and then the skills that he learned as a boy who sometimes helped his father gather up the cows at milking time come in handy. And for that, I'm sure he's grateful.
You see, we live in a city that was not long ago hundreds and hundreds of acres of farmland. And by not long ago I mean ten years ago. And for some, who haven't sold all their land to the mall developers and IKEA men, this means that they still have cows. That sometimes get out. And scare the poor city folk like me by running rampant through neighborhoods.
And so, the police department knows who to send. The cow wrangling expert, my husband. Who knows, apparently, that by honking, sounding his siren and yelling, the cows will go where they are supposed to. He should teach a class.