Yesterday, I came upon a small herd of range cows, maybe a dozen, who eyed me pensively as I jogged past. Some just looked at me, blankly, with that know-nothing sort of look that really doesn’t reveal what they’re thinking; I just know that they didn’t feel threatened enough to run. Others gave me a similar look but quickly turned tail, inciting a few of their nearby bovine compatriots to follow suit. It was two of these cows, trotting away from me with four stiff but rapidly moving legs, that did something I have never seen before.
I’m not a big fan of cows, particularly when I seem them in the mountains munching on what’s left of a grass depleted range, nor do I enjoy dodging the crusty piles of excrement that they leave behind. I don’t eat their flesh, but I do wear the shoes made from their hides, so I have a grudging appreciation for their existence. This group of cows was on a private ranch, or, rather, they were supposed to be. [Read more…]