Moo-Mac and the Bulldog

When Moo-Mac got older and occasionally got out, usually because the "Doat", a beautiful Nubian goat, led him through the fence somewhere and on to an excellent adventure, to get him home we had to get a rope around his neck and lead him back with difficulty. He was way to big and strong for the "Davis" technique.
One day I was talking to my father-in-law, a former dairy farmer in England, about Moo-Mac and he said matter of factly "Put a bulldog on his nose - always works and easy to lead them." A bulldog? On his nose? How the hell do you get a bulldog to grab a steer's nose and lead him around? John looked at me with something between pity and resignation and said " You know, the ring in their nose - called a bulldog. Just snap a rope on it and they follow you anywhere." No doubt good advice, but we froze Moo-Mac before we got to "put a bulldog on his nose". Tasty too.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/agnescao/452911489/

How to Steer a Calf

The calf got out ----- again. This time we got a call from the Stones Home Center at the corner: "Your calf is walking around the parking lot." So Sally and I ran down to the parking lot (half a block away) and tried to circle around and slowly "drive" baby Moo-Mac back home. He just ran around us - playing - if calves play. We were afraid he would run onto US 27 and end up roadkill so we kept trying to "contain" him. Hot and frustrated, we doggedly pursued him, but never got close. Along came old Mr. Davis, probably 80ish, and asked if we needed some help getting the calf back home (he knew where the calf lived - seemed like everyone in town knew). We were grateful for the offer but I thought "If we couldn't catch Moo-Mac how is this old boy going to do it"? Well, never underestimate a country boy, old or not! Davis told us to walk away from the calf and just call him to get his attention. He walked around behind him as if he were going to his truck and suddenly grabbed the calf's tail. Moo-Mac took off with Davis skidding behind and as he was dragged along he steered the calf down the street, up the driveway, through the gate and into the pasture. Slick as a whistle. The secret? Use the tail like a rudder: pull right - the calf goes left; pull left - the calf goes right; just hang on and he goes straight.

So, the next time your calf gets loose, use the "Davis" technique. Works like a charm.

Photo: saintlouisconservative.blogspot.com/2009/07/m...

The "Doat" and the Great Escape

We got back from a very long drive from Bradenton to Havana about midnight. The answering machine was flashing with a message: " Mr. Search? This is the Havana Police (you could hear in his voice the unspoken "again"). We found your cow and goat wandering around down town (again). They're OK. Please call us in the morning." Here's how the scene unfolded: sometime after dark someone reported a "cow and a large dog loose in town". The Police knew exactly who they were and who they belonged to. The had found out on earlier "jailbreaks" that if they just put them back in the pasture they'd be out again in no time so they took them to a neighboring farmer to hold. When the squad car pulled up to the escapees, Doat would climb into the back seat and sit down. She loved to ride in cars. Moo-Mac waited while they put a rope around his neck, tied it to the bumper, and walked them to the farm, Doat watching from the back seat like a Queen. The next morning after hearing the story we went to the neighbor to collect our jailbirds. Moo-Mac was happily munching hay in a small paddock and Doat was resting in a clean horse box trailer. Doat jumped in the back of the Pinto wagon and Moo-Mac walked regally home. We fixed the fence - again- and they were content to stay at home until the next time we went out of town. We finally solved the problem: gave the goat back to the friend that gave her to us, and ate Moo-Mac.

Photo of Holstein: http://www.flickr.com/search/?w=all&q=dimitra%27s+face&m=text

Photo of "Doat":http://www.flickr.com/photos/24777260@N02/2413440035/

I Don't Understand

I sat on the side of the road, unable to drive for the tears in my eyes. NPR was broadcasting the Ft. Hood ceremony for the murdered soldiers. The Chaplin was better than any I have heard. The generals and the President said exactly the right things and set exactly the right tone. And yet ---- and yet. I don't understand why they said these troops "gave their lives" for their country and service. They didn't give anything. Their lives were taken by a madman who murdered them. I don't understand if the metaphor for being killed at home by a madman is supposed to make me better understand their sacrifice. I don't understand if we say that they were taken before their time by a madman that murdered them that we somehow diminish their lives, or their commitment to their principles and country. It doesn't diminish my sorrow or my grief or my anger at the taker. These wonderful people didn't sign up to be murdered in their home base. They would have given their lives in service if asked, there is no doubt about that. They weren't asked.
I don't understand the final words of the Chaplin when he asked God to bless the families and the country with the strength to persevere and to understand and to not hate. I don't understand why a God would give the families the strength to do that but not step in and save the fallen, so unjustly murdered. I never will.

Photo: chile.usembassy.gov/press2009_memorial_day.html