SATURDAY NIGHT AT THE WESTERNER

Sacred Horses

by Larry Gabriel

Congress has decided the French and Germans should stop eating American horses. Why? Because the American horse is a sacred cow in Washington, DC.

Of course, being professional politicians they never mentioned Frenchmen or Germans or sacred cows. They just changed the language of federal meat inspection laws in a way to prohibit horse slaughter in the United States for human consumption.

Out here on the prairie we don't eat our horses, although some of our ancestors found it necessary to do so at times, up to and including during World War II.

Generally, we don't eat bugs, bird nests, kangaroos and snails either, but we don't care if others do.

Our horses were a sacred cow in only one regard. You could be hanged for stealing one.

Congress has no idea what sacred means. The buffalo are sacred to the Indians, but they eat them. Many things in nature were sacred to the natives of America. That meant they had proper respect for those things. It was not a prohibition on using them.

Congress seems to have taken the Hindu view of sacred cows and applied it to the horse. They can't eat one, but they can dump the carcass in the nearest river when it dies.

Do you think that doesn't happen in India? Do you think something like it won't happen here? Do you think every owner of an old sick horse will pay $200 to euthanize it? If so, you might qualify for Congress.

One of the original supporters of this measure reversed his position when he found out that it will not help horses, may move the slaughter to Canada or Mexico, or may cause thousands of old horses to suffer slow and agonizing deaths from disease. Slaughter is more humane.

But, a good set of facts has never deterred Congress from doing the politically correct thing, once it determines what that is.

I heard about an old dog like that. He got "brain lock" about every six months and would just take off. You could see it coming in his face. His eyes would glaze over and his brows would knot up. No bribe and no threat could dissuade him from his course while that look was there.

Congress has brain lock on this issue. There is no talking to them about better, wiser, more efficient, more humane alternatives. They are going to make their run.

When its over, they will find this: the federal government owns about 56,500 wild horses and burros. The herd doubles every five years. About 24,000 of those are in holding facilities and cost us $20 million a year. That can't continue forever.

Don't worry. Brain lock doesn't last forever. Sooner or later the dog catcher shows up.

Larry Gabriel is the South Dakota Secretary of Agriculture.


Cotton and the cow buyer

By Julie Carter

Cotton was a cowboy by trade. He could day work and ride colts with the best of them and with a confidence that only comes from lots of hours in the saddle.

Owning cattle had always seemed riskier than riding green broke colts in snowstorms tending to somebody else’s sick yearling cattle. So he opted to simply draw wages.

He had a dependable reputation and while not having a regular boss, he almost always had work. Those that needed his help would find him at the filling station, feed store, at home or as happened this time, the local watering hole.

The Buggy Wheel Bar was one of the regular stops on his route and served as his post office and message center. It was the kind of place you could drink with your hat on and make sure the appropriate amount of bull was shot before heading home.

One day when he had just about finished his first cool one, a new cattle owner of his acquaintance wandered into the Buggy Wheel Bar. This wealthy but foolish man had just purchased on the highest market in recorded history 150 head of young crossbred cows with calves by their side.

These cattle had been gathered, penned and shipped without being worked. They were not branded, inoculated or pregnancy tested. They were not accustomed to horses or people and were in no mood to get that way. They were currently standing in this man’s pens and he had come to give Cotton a chance to make a little extra money.

Cotton asked the intelligent correct questions about the pens, the medicine, history of the cattle and what the owner had in his mind to have done. The owner was open to suggestion having no idea that any of that made any difference. Cotton outlined the standard procedure and gave a rough estimate of the cost of doing what needed done minus the labor.

After the new owner sat down awhile and caught his breath, he asked what Cotton would charge to do the work. Cotton stated his normal fee and indicated he would need a couple other good hands to help move the cattle through the chute and administer the required shots, brands and ear marks. These hands would have to be paid standard day wages.

The owner with all these high priced cattle standing in pens, could not in good conscience pay that much to get done what they didn’t even do in the movies. He left the Buggy Wheel Bar; Cotton finished his beverage and headed home to sleep.

In the morning Cotton’s phone was ringing and he listened patiently to the cow owner’s counter offer on wages. He passed on the offer and left the man with absolutely no idea what to do. Same thing happened the next morning.

By this time the cow owner was getting tired of putting out feed for the penned cattle and so he accepted Cotton’s price. The only catch was that he didn’t see the need for any extra cowboy day help. His proposal this time was “I’ll pay your price and I have a couple carpenters working on the house. I’ll send you those boys to help.”

Last time Cotton heard, the new owner was still feeding and had given up trying to find somebody to work that bunch of crossbred cows and calves. He is now looking for a new owner for them.

© Julie Carter 2005