Just as I’m getting into my cruiser this afternoon, I hear Officer John Metzo check in over the radio. He’s out on a call he was dispatched to.

“Good luck,” dispatch replies. “Good luck?” I mutter, eyebrows raised. That’s odd.

My curiosity gets the better of me, and I pull up the call details. Location: Root Rd, just north of Lorain Rd.

“A cow fell out of a truck. ”

Wait. . . what?

I am *so* en route. When I get there, it’s exactly as reported: a cow—completely unharmed—has made a great escape from a truck trailer and is clearly on a mission.

Officer Ryan Jones arrives, and now we’re both in a standoff with what I’m now certain is the fastest cow in Lorain County. Full disclosure, my cow-wrangling experience is pretty limited, but this cow is giving us a run for our money.

We go left, he goes right. We go right, he goes left.

And wouldn’t you know it, he darts across Root Rd just as we close in, dodging three cruisers before squaring off with an innocent Subaru. We chase him straight into an open garage, finally, hoping it’s game over.

But then, Houdini—sorry, Moodini—bolts right out the back door. “Son of a. . .” Back in pursuit.

Moodini heads up an embankment, weaving through the SR 10 perimeter fence like he’s on an obstacle course, aiming straight for the highway. Bad.

Very bad. In a heroic move, Ryan scales the embankment, intercepts Moodini, and talks him out of a dangerous tango with a semi.

Long story short, after a bit more of this rodeo, we’re able to wrangle him, with our cruisers valiantly navigating a farmer’s soybean field. (Apologies again, kind farmer!) The owner shows up and promptly releases two more cows.

At first, it seems like a terrible idea (I mean, neither of us aced Cow 101 in the academy). But what do you know—it works!

Moodini the escape artist runs straight to his cow buddies, and after a bit of cow-to-cow counseling, he heads back into the trailer willingly. As we’re swapping tales of our cowboy-ish prowess, the owner lets us in on a little secret: the cow’s name.

Brace yourself—Moodini. I swear, I couldn’t have made that up if I tried.

Anyway, Moodini is safe and sound, no harm done to him, the cars, or us, and the fine citizens can rest easy tonight, confident they won’t be ambushed by a runaway cow while getting their mail. Just another day in the field, folks.

Rest easy, citizens. Rest easy.

*Edit:* Apparently Moodini’s a boy? Not that it matters—we were clearly too busy chasing him to notice.