BAIRD, TX—A local group of cattle is on strike until they receive the same rights as the horses, says a representative of the herd.
According to the black Angus herd bull, Chester, the cattle are tired of being treated like second class citizens of the farm.
“The horses sleep in private stalls each night, while we’re out here with the coyotes,” he said. “They get their manes and tails combed and their hooves cleaned. And they get their own feed bowls. See that hay ring over there? Would you want to eat out of that? Some of us get tired of the buffet, bub.”
From what we could see, conditions were above average on the 5J Ranch, home of the disgruntled kine. A windmill pumped clean water into tanks that were in good repair, and cattle were rotated among pastures to ensure there was no over-grazing. Also, about 100 acres of wheat was still green and lush, available for the cattle and horses alike.
We mentioned this to one of the cows, Wilma Bovine (according to Wilma, it’s the French pronunciation, Bo-veen-ay).
“You are making light of our plight, monsieur,” said Ms. Bovine. “Things look good on ze surface, but ze horses, they have it better, no? Until we have the same as them, we will work no more.”
“Excuse the way she talks,” said Heidi the yearling heifer, rolling her eyes. “She’s convinced that her great grandmother was a Maine-Anjou.”
Our Dallas correspondent made the mistake of asking Wilma exactly what kind of work she and the other cows are refraining from.
“We make ze little calves, monsieur,” she answered. “Are you in need of further explanation?”
“Ah, hell,” said Frank Tidwell, the farm manager. “They’re just bluffing. Sure, old Chester ain’t serving them cows no more, but that’s just because he’s ten years old. He couldn’t breed if he wanted to. He’s covering up his shame by trying to pretend he’s all high and mighty. He never even noticed those damn horses back in his prime.”
One of the cowboys agreed. “And even if they ain’t bluffing,” he said, “I saw Heidi and the other heifers eyeing those young bulls in the back pasture. If we turn them in together, there’ll be calves scattered from hell to breakfast.”
“Still,” said Mr. Tidwell, “we’re making plans to put out some fresh salt licks and several more molasses tubs. Maybe that will calm them down for now.”
The horses had no comment.