The grass is not greener across the fence

I was taken by surprise when I found all the sick cattle last week, and I have spent several hours since then checking cattle. No new cases were found, so I am pretty sure we are out of the cycle. We vaccinate for every known disease the law allows -- some vaccinations I am pretty sure are just a waste of money -- and then the old hides will still get sick and try to die. I was sure pleased we didn't have snow flying or a heavy three- or four-day rain. That would have made getting the sickies over their troubles pretty difficult.

We have a couple of older cows, one is six and the other one is seven, that grow overlapping toes. The six-year-old gets sore and limps pretty quick when hers get to throwing off her steps. We got them up this morning and trimmed their hooves -- snips and grinder -- and being careful not to lame them. I know the trait is genetic, learned that from a good friend who is an animal husbandry expert, so we are careful not to keep their offspring. Both of the cows have had only one heifer among their calves, so I feel like we are doing OK by keeping the cows.

October is half over and the grass is still growing, so we are sure a happy bunch of beef producers. The fellers at the coffee emporium had the roundtable filled and had to scoot around to make room for me. Most of them are retired, but they are aware of each little change in the weather as it affects the beef business. They are retired but never, ever tired of the business. We talked about the years of dry falls and cold Octobers and how we managed to survive them. Getting on up in years allows us lots of fodder for tales! Glenn Kraft was there and announced the coming of a grandchild, his first. Good news and good friends over hot coffee are sure nice.

My old George Strait pickup truck is pushing 200,000 miles and it was hard to start this morning. I may have to trade it off but, if I do that, I will be forced to clean off the dash. There are papers and receipts there that might be required by the IRS and local law enforcement officers, let alone what my close relative needs for tax purposes. The old truck has seen good and bad days, good and bad luck if there is such a thing as luck. And, it has herded cattle at breakneck speeds. I sure hate to think of breaking in a new one. I wonder if my banker had a sudden chill as I thought of spending the huge amount it costs for a new pickup?

Leo Davis is back from his try to make it rich in California. He didn't get his little 20-acre place here sold, so they moved back in this last week. I saw him at the feed store and he said he believes that old song about all the gold in California being in the bank in someone else's name!

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, the grass is not greener across the fence. I never was the roaming kind -- maybe being too lazy or too stubborn to go -- but I always wanted to stay where I had landed and grown roots. Some folks seem to make it over and over, moving along to find a better and more profitable place each time. I would be like an old dog wandering along, hoping for a bone and a drink of cool water! Thankful my close relative has that binding glue in her too. We just stayed!

It is a long time before tax season again, fellers, so don't worry about the dash in your pickup truck just yet!

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.