Other Side Of Fence Really Is Greener

May Day is grass day.

It’s the one most anticipated by cow and man alike. The winter is always long to both the bovine and owner, but this past one was for the records. Whenever spring green shoots start sneaking through the barren soil, cattle appetites quickly change. That prairie hay which seemed pretty dang good during the blizzard suddenly tastes bad.

Formerly pacified momma cow becomes a meanderer in the winter homeland seeking every sprout that peeks up. When she’s become ahead of the growth, Ole Bossy and her mates go to the boundary, surely putting meaning to”It’s always greener on the other side of the fence.”

Despite sharply increasing quality of feed stuff in efforts to satisfy sweetened taste buds and curb the prowl, invariably pressure on the periphery strengthens. Post with any unfastened or loosened wires will soon sway and lean away to the brighter horizon.

Unless it’™s pretty new and awfully tight, one always seems to find a way through, over or under the hurdle. Typically, when the borders are adequate, it’ll be the young ones first to the other side.

As soon as one figures out the procedure, it’s not before long another will follow. And, if there’s old, rusty, broken and dilapidated wiring, the first will be much sooner through and progression considerably faster. Once a critter has found the lusciousness of the opposite side, it becomes a definite challenge to keep them home.

Not only does that make disgust and labor for the owner-manager, but even worse is when the other side is that of a neighbor. All of sudden, the critter is trespassing, and cowboy the same in attempting roundup. Makes things worse if the intruder be opposite gender of homebound cows, and there is spring romancing on the mind.

As mad as that can make a breeder who’s intent on a set calving period, making calves come at unplanned, inappropriate times, what’s worse if there’s a purebred man involved. Perhaps tempers now don’t fly like stories we’ve heard in days gone by.

When a scrub black mongrel bull used to get in with those fancy-pedigreed whitefaces, that was about World War III, so it has been said. Crossbreeding is more accepted among many producers these times, so there’s typically still a merchantable product though perhaps not as much as if the lines had stayed pure.

Haven’t heard of anybody putting yokes on cows in some time, but used to be a fairly common practice. Those who kept milkers in a loosely barbed lot often devised a wishbone-shaped tree limb around heir cows’ necks to keep them from going through.

Now, when gate to the new lush land is open, it’s a stampede not taking time to appreciate the tender nutrition until realizing the freedom and theirs for the taking.

One thinks of Second Samuel 23:2: “Whoever governs fairly and well, who rules in the fear of God, is like first light at daybreak without a cloud in the sky, like green grass carpeting earth, glistening under fresh rain.” Thus, most appropriate is Deuteronomy 11:15: “And I will send grass in thy fields for thy cattle, that thou mayest eat and be full.”