In Terry Hayhurst’s life, no trip is complete without seeing Hereford cattle.

Our recent trip to visit my brothers’ families in San Antonio netted a drive by my brother Bob and his wife, Jolanda, to the Lyndon B. Johnson National Historic Park. More than 1,500 acres in Texas hill country about 50 miles west of Austin, the park protects Johnson’s birthplace, home, ranch and cemetery where our 36th president of the United States is buried.

As we drove through the vast park, Bob advised us to watch for cattle. While we could see some scattered at a distance from us, suddenly Terry spied a large group of Herefords about a half-mile down the road. I warned Bob that this couldn’t be a drive-by viewing. He had to find a place to pull off and park the car.

Bob had barely pulled off next to a fence and put the car in park when Terry jumped from the front passenger seat and stepped up to the fence. He immediately started calling, “Sook, cow, sook! Sook, cow, sook!” A chorus of moos answered him, with many beasts starting to head our way from fencerows and behind low hills.

Man and beasts delighted in the attention. Terry’s blue eyes were lit up like stadium lights as Herefords from LBJ’s cattle’s lineage spoke to him.

I grabbed my phone and videoed 30 seconds of the exchange. What a sight! I sent the recording to our girls — Hayley in London, England, and Lillian in Terre Haute, Ind. They were so excited for their dad.

While I worried the cattle would charge the fence at the unexpected visitors and thunder into Bob’s 2-week-old new car, I was thrilled for our experience. Savor each life moment you’re given.

LOVE THOSE HEREFORDS: Terry and Lillian Hayhurst deliver a baby calf — a Hereford, of course!

Hayhurst writes from Terre Haute, Ind.