Morning sunshine spilled over the hills, painting the pastures gold. Farmer CUTIS stood by the wooden fence, sipping his steaming coffee, and watching his herd of cows grazing peacefully. They were a curious bunch—each one with its own personality. There was Daisy, who always wandered too far; Buttercup, who tried to lick everything; and Bessie, who thought she was in charge of everyone.
But lately, trouble had been brewing in their quiet valley. For weeks now, CUTIS had noticed unfamiliar people wandering near his land, snapping photos of the cows and whispering to each other. At first, he thought it was harmless—maybe just travelers appreciating the rural charm. But the visits grew more frequent. Sometimes, the strangers would park on the side of the road and stare at the cows for a long time. CUTIS didn’t like it one bit.
One afternoon, he overheard two of the strangers saying something that made his heart drop.
“That big brown one would fetch a good price.”
“Yeah, and the black-spotted one’s healthy. Might be worth tracking.”
CUTIS’s grip on his pitchfork tightened. No one is taking my cows.
That night, he lay in bed, unable to sleep. He needed a plan. Guard dogs? Electric fences? Or maybe… something so strange that no one would even recognize his cows. As he stared at the moonlight spilling across the floor, an idea formed. A ridiculous, brilliant, utterly impossible idea.
The next morning, CUTIS marched into town and bought every bit of safe, non-toxic livestock paint and makeup he could find. He bought colorful powders, giant brushes, glitter, washable dyes, and even a few wigs from the second-hand shop. The shopkeeper gave him a puzzled look, but CUTIS only winked.
“Big project,” he said. “Very… artistic.”
The First Makeover
Daisy was the first volunteer—or rather, the first victim. She blinked slowly at CUTIS as he approached with a handful of bright blue paint.
“Don’t give me that look, Daisy,” CUTIS said. “This is for your own safety.”
An hour later, Daisy no longer looked like a cow. She looked like… something from a children’s cartoon. Her once-brown coat was splashed with swirls of blue, pink, and yellow. Glitter shimmered along her horns, and CUTIS had painted fake zebra stripes on her legs. To complete the look, he tied a sparkly scarf around her neck.
When he stepped back to admire his work, CUTIS grinned.
“Perfect. No one’s going to think you’re a cow now. You’re… a mythical pasture beast.”
Daisy sniffed and flicked her tail as if to say she was above such nonsense.
Buttercup’s Turn
Next was Buttercup, the mischievous one. CUTIS decided to go for something bold—full camouflage. Using shades of green and brown, he painted leafy patterns across her body. Then he added fake plastic vines to her tail and stuck silk flowers behind her ears.
When he was done, Buttercup actually blended into the tall grass. From a distance, she looked like part of the meadow itself. She seemed to enjoy it, because she kept wandering behind trees and popping her head out to startle the chickens.
The Herd Transforms
By midday, CUTIS had transformed the entire herd into something straight out of a surreal art gallery.
- Bessie wore a giant curly wig and had her face painted with dramatic eyeliner and lipstick.
- Old Henry, the bull, had a rainbow mane, courtesy of a dozen washable hair sprays.
- The calves sported polka dots, stars, and even superhero capes made from old bedsheets.
The pasture looked like a festival—colors swirling everywhere, cows mooing proudly as if they knew they were part of something extraordinary.
The Strangers Return
That afternoon, the same strangers drove by again. CUTIS, pretending to fix the fence, kept one eye on them.
The strangers slowed their car, stared at the pasture… and then frowned.
“Uh… are those… cows?” one asked.
“No way,” the other replied. “Cows don’t have purple horns and… wait, is that one wearing lipstick?”
They laughed nervously, shook their heads, and drove off. CUTIS smirked. That’s right. Move along.
Unexpected Fame
News travels fast in small towns, and within days, CUTIS’s “fashion herd” became a local sensation. People came not to steal the cows, but to take photos. Children squealed with delight at the glitter-covered bull. Tourists asked if they could buy “cow makeover” souvenirs.
One reporter from the county newspaper showed up to do a story.
“So, Mr. CUTIS,” she asked, “what inspired this… unusual style choice?”
CUTIS grinned. “I guess you could say I became a stylist to protect my family. Nobody messes with cows when they think they’re runway models.”
The article went viral online. Soon, CUTIS was receiving fan mail from all over the world. Someone even sent him a box of neon cowbell accessories.
The Cows Start to Enjoy It
At first, CUTIS thought the cows might hate the makeovers. But to his surprise, they seemed to enjoy the extra attention. Daisy strutted around the pasture like a celebrity. Buttercup refused to take off her silk flowers. Bessie wouldn’t let anyone touch her wig.
In the evenings, CUTIS would sit on the fence with a brush and a bucket of colors, touching up the designs. He started experimenting—tribal patterns, paisley swirls, even a cow painted to look like a giant strawberry. The more outrageous, the better.
The Big Test
One evening, a storm rolled in. The wind howled, rain lashed the fields, and CUTIS worried all his work would wash away. But the next morning, to his relief, the paint was still there—slightly faded, but still bizarre enough to confuse anyone.
That same day, he spotted the strangers again, this time with a different vehicle. They drove slowly past, staring hard. CUTIS could almost see the gears turning in their heads.
“Nope,” one finally said. “Too weird. Not worth the trouble.”
They sped off, and CUTIS knew his plan had worked.
The Unexpected Bonus
Over time, something wonderful happened. The “strange makeup” wasn’t just hiding the cows—it was making the whole community feel safer. Other farmers began painting their animals too: sheep with rainbow wool, goats with tiger stripes, even chickens with tiny painted patterns on their feathers.
Rustlers avoided the valley entirely. Tourists poured in. The local diner even added a new milkshake to the menu called the “CUTIS Special”—a swirl of colors inspired by Daisy’s coat.
Epilogue: The Stylist of the Pasture
One quiet evening, as the sun set and the hills turned golden again, CUTIS leaned on the fence, watching his cows chew lazily. They looked ridiculous—one had butterfly wings painted on her sides, another wore a flower crown—but they were safe, happy, and thriving.
CUTIS chuckled to himself.
“Who knew? All it took to keep you safe was a little creativity… and a lot of glitter.”
And from that day on, Farmer CUTIS wasn’t just known as the man with the safest cows in the valley—he was the Stylist of the Pasture, the only farmer in the world who could make a cow look like a superstar.
The strangers never came back. But the tourists did, the laughter did, and the colors stayed—bright against the green fields, a reminder that sometimes, the best protection comes from the strangest ideas.
