A
Anonymous
It's amazing how cattle and people can be so much alike.
I remember when my dad sold the last of his horned cows. He was not getting any younger. He was (and still is) strong for his age and could outwork most men half his age. But he wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as fast as he thought. I'd been encouraging him for some time to get rid of all his cows that had horns. I was afraid he'd get hooked and I'd find him in the pasture one of these days, or something like that.
There was one mean old cow, one of the smartest and at the top of the pecking order when it came to getting her fair share. She had a particularly bad set of lifters and although I admired her for the calves she raised, I hated her for her meanness and for what she might do to daddy.
We trapped her calf in the lot one day when he was big enough to wean. Later that month we got her. She was one of the last to go. We also caught a another cow we'd been meaning so sell, so we carried them in together. They had more room in the trailer than they knew what to do with, just two cows in the whole thing.
By the time we got to the sale, the poor old baldie was cut up from one end to the other and bleeding all over the place. That sorry wench had worked her over out of sheer meanness. No reason in the world to come close to each other, but that didn't matter. The horned cow got her – just because she could.
Reminds me of some people. Give them a little advantage and they can't be satisfied with their gifts and good fortune. They get mad at the world and take it out on whoever is close by.
Oh well. It's a lesson to learn – never be like them. Because when it's all said and done we, unlike the old cows, will have to stand and answer for our actions.
Craig-TX
I remember when my dad sold the last of his horned cows. He was not getting any younger. He was (and still is) strong for his age and could outwork most men half his age. But he wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as fast as he thought. I'd been encouraging him for some time to get rid of all his cows that had horns. I was afraid he'd get hooked and I'd find him in the pasture one of these days, or something like that.
There was one mean old cow, one of the smartest and at the top of the pecking order when it came to getting her fair share. She had a particularly bad set of lifters and although I admired her for the calves she raised, I hated her for her meanness and for what she might do to daddy.
We trapped her calf in the lot one day when he was big enough to wean. Later that month we got her. She was one of the last to go. We also caught a another cow we'd been meaning so sell, so we carried them in together. They had more room in the trailer than they knew what to do with, just two cows in the whole thing.
By the time we got to the sale, the poor old baldie was cut up from one end to the other and bleeding all over the place. That sorry wench had worked her over out of sheer meanness. No reason in the world to come close to each other, but that didn't matter. The horned cow got her – just because she could.
Reminds me of some people. Give them a little advantage and they can't be satisfied with their gifts and good fortune. They get mad at the world and take it out on whoever is close by.
Oh well. It's a lesson to learn – never be like them. Because when it's all said and done we, unlike the old cows, will have to stand and answer for our actions.
Craig-TX