WESTSIDE — I knew Johnson grass was in the heifer pasture and that the girls were always hunting for a bite of something green and juicy but I did what some do. I sorta let it slip out of my thought pattern for a day or two.
I was at the local feed store tending to business, listening to the woes of being a cattle producer, when the subject arose.
Sam Goodnell down in the next county seems to have lost seven big good cows to Johnson grass and Tim Dunn lost two. Tim lives about 20 miles from here, so I know him pretty well, well enough to know he didn’t have the vet come out and post the cows.
We sat on feed sacks and kicked the killer grass around for awhile. Some of the guys said it was just an old wives’ tale, some didn’t know if it was even Johnson grass or morning dew on some strains of Bermuda that killed when ingested. I allowed it must be as my Pappy had believed, a certain growth period. I never heard him say what period, and wedidn’t have much of it where I grew up, but it seemed he knew to dig it up when we found it.
The leaves of the wild cherry trees are deadly to cattle. We all agreed on that and most of us have cleared the fence rows of the trees. The old barnyard weed, purple mint, will take a few days to kill but it is sorta like a drug. The cattle will stand around and munch on it when there isn’t anything else to eat and the more they eat the better they seem to like it. Then they get poor and their respiratory system shuts down.
They die a terrible death.
A new weed to my knowledge that is a killer is wild hemlock. I don’t know anything much about it but some of the older ones sitting around did. I asked if it was the same weed that Shakespeare wrote something about, and I got strange looks from all the men.
I gotta look that one up, or at least check with my vet.
I was in a pretty good humor when I went to town, had a couple of inches of rain and no lightning with it, the grass was growing again and the ponds were full. That makes a man whistle a ditty, and even old Dog was up and wagging his self around. The heat of the summer seemed long gone and maybe even the dry spell was broken. You know I am the one to look for a silver lining even if my close relative said the last rain is the start of the next drought.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, the good Lord blessed me by putting me here. I have weeds, dry spells, ticks, rocks, heat and tornados to deal with. Some years we have grasshoppers and army worms, measles, mumps and Swine Flu.
But we aren’t prone to mud slides, tsunamis, hurricanes, sharks, floods or avalanches. I am very thankful all I have to deal with seems rather calm compared to other havoc Mother Nature is apt to display across the globe.
You know the words, “count your blessings,” and I suggest we all do it. Then check out your pastures and count the cattle standing up and breathing!
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.
Opinion, Pages 6 on 09/15/2010