To wit: Tobie loves cattle and wants to get to know everything about them. I hate cattle with the incandescence of a thousand suns.
And the most wonderful thing about cattle – from Tobie’s point of view – is that they leave him so many presents. Smelly, gooey, tasty presents. And he’s gotta catch’em all.
Could be worse, I suppose. Ghost liked to roll in the shit.
Okay, so two nights ago we had a herd overnight in the yard, then in the morning take its dear sweet time about moving away. I ended up rampaging out in the yard with a handgun to drive them away. (What I said about the pistol primarily being a noisemaker? Yeah.) Okay, that’s just Tuesday around here but the problem is that Tobie now wants to study every slightest nuance of every cow present: Every hoofprint and especially every dropping must be studied minutely – and in the case of droppings, at least sampled. He is aware that I hate it when he does this, it’s a dispute we’ve had off and on since he was a pup. He simply doesn’t see why I object to shit-eating: I mean, isn’t that what it’s for? And so every walkie turns into this cat-and-mouse game where he rushes ahead to the full extent of his walking lead and then goes full stealth mode to get at least one nibble in before I commence yelling at him.
And of course since cattle dislike soft sand as much as I do, we tend to use the same beaten paths. Cattle are as filthy in their eliminatory habits as goats and chickens; they just raise their tail and let fly when the urge strikes without even breaking stride, so now my favorite paths are just coated in the (literal) shit. I was out yesterday and this morning with a shovel getting it moved off to the side of my driveway and the paths immediately near the Lair. Sweartagod, people call dogs dirty but livestock makes dogs look fastidious as a Victorian dandy by comparison…
I’ve long said that I love cows… when they belong to someone else and are kept somewhere else… or when they hit my table.
Make no mistake, I fully recognize the realities of commercial beef production, and I advocate not only for the family rancher, but for the big industrial scale feedlots as well… nothing like cheap protein to feed the world…
But, we’re in agreement… keep them as far away from me as possible. The only thing worse are horses… not only are they dumb enough to let themselves be ridden, but they appear to spend their time looking for creative ways to die. At least cows have some sense of self preservation.
Our last 2 dogs (R.I.P.) were connoisseurs of the stuff and had a refined taste for the poop of newborn calves. My wife would get a soapy washcloth and clean their mouths. The dachshund could get snippy about it. The giant german shepherd / lab stood there gagging and took his medicine. Neither one ever stopped eating shit.