I asked the dealer, “What is it?”
She said, “It’s a cow tag.”
“Didn’t they name the cows?” I thought of all the proverbial cow names I knew: Clover. Daisy. Bessie. Clarabelle.
“Not if they had a big herd. They attached the tags to their collars.” So it was an ID. Like a chip would be today.
My house is built on the site of a dairy farm that got absorbed into the city. We’ve dug up horseshoes, buggy springs, harness rings, and yokes. I’m a city kid, but I was entranced by the cow tag. I hope you will be, too. Price: $25.