Do Cows Have Midol Days?

I was visiting with Bernie today as he combed loose hair off three or five of his 10 dogs. See, Bernie rescues dogs from the pound and people bring him old dogs to take care of. Mostly black labs. I have to drive (slowly) through his yard in order to get to Chisholm's alfalfa field to pick bales.

Chisholm grazes cows there in the winter. He's one of several young Valley County folks who have graduated from MSUB with degrees in farm and ranch management and have returned home to work on or actually take over the family farm/ranch. twenty-five years old is a “great” time to be a couple hundred thousand dollars in debt!! But that's the price you pay when you go buy 100 head of bred heifers, lease the land to graze them on and raise the hay to feed them with.

There will be more on these young folks in future stories.

Bernie was telling me a true story I hope you will appreciate. He swears it's true and you all know how I like the truth. So, have momma bring you a brew, settle back and enjoy. This is being brought to you by Nordahl N. Nordahl's Lutefisk Emporium, body-waxing saloon and radiator repair shop. Stay tuned.

Seems there's a couple trees out east of the alfalfa field that have tipped over and formed a perfect V about four feet high. The cows love to use this V formation to scratch their itchy throat, neck and brisket by hanging their heads through the V and moving forth and back and side to side. There's always a clump or two of black or red cow hair hanging on the V.

Well, it seems that one day one of the less smart cows on the place decided to go for a scratch, hung her head over the V and began. She did this for several minutes before disaster struck. Bovine forensics showed that while enjoying a good scratch Mergatroid (the cow) slipped and couldn't get up. She struggled to pull her head free but to no avail.

We were all busy with other chores at different places and no one noticed her for a few days and by that time she had “passed.”

Before we could get a tractor and loader out there to remove her from her roost, three days had passed. And here's the story.

A hunter from the city came rushing up to Bernie's place and banged on the door. Bernie answered and asked, “Can I help you?" The hunter said, “There's a cow hanging in a tree back on that other place. I couldn't find anyone there so I came here.”

Bernie looked sadly at the guy and exclaimed, “A cow hung herself in a tree? Was she a red cow with some white on her rump?” The guy affirmed that that was the bovine he saw.

Bernie said, rather tearfully, “I just knew that would happen. I should have done something to prevent it.”

The hunter, by now, was becoming quite confusionated and asked Bernie, “What do you mean you could have stopped it? She's just a cow!”

“Not so,” said Bernie, “cows have feelings. She's been acting despondent for a couple weeks, kinda' moping around and being antisocial which simply wasn't her style. Why, she even shunned ol' Rufus' advances. Usually she's quite . . . uh . . . playful this time of year if you catch my drift. She's always been the life of the party and very 'bubbly.'”

Then Bernie delivered the capper to his story when he said “I really think it must have been just a matter of postpartum depression.”

The hunter apologized profusely saying, “I'm sorry. I never knew.” See, he was sure that cows didn't have feelings . . . that they were nothing more than a steak-making machine.

Bernie just smiled, and said, “Aw, that's alright, you didn't know.” Then he turned and with a little grin went back to his dog grooming. The hunter left . . . still quite discombobulated.

That's it for now folks. Thanks for listening.