My husband is a 7th generation Texas cattle raiser. His great-great grand parents were apart of the settling community in the western area of Ivan, Texas. We still occupy the land his grandmother and then mother were raised on, as well as a couple other ancestry properties. This allows us to rotate grazing and be stewards of the land.
I’ve learned a lot about cattle and ag life in general in the 13 years I’ve been apart of the family. Cows are curious creatures. Tough and a bit like large dogs in a way. They like to walk in circles in their herd. And they know the sound of a bag of feed being opened from miles away.
I work a regular 9-5 so I don’t get out to the ranch as often as I’d like. But I love taking snaps of the cows. They’re quite comical. The calves jump around and the mamas call out to each other so everyone knows to come up for some food. Acres of green grass but they’ll come running for their supplemental cube food. It smells sweet and gives them the nutrients they don’t get from just grass feeding.
This particular cow was convinced I was hiding something extra from her.
I promised her I wasn’t. My husband does the feeding. The bags of feed are heavy. Even though I can carry one, spilling out food while trying to avoid being crushed by the rush of cows to cubes is more than I can handle.
There’s a lovely feeling being out there in the fresh air. Nature’s design is in control. We work with it and around it. Low stress handling and regular visits ensure the herd stays healthy and prosperous.
We care about our stock. If we didn’t the meat you buy would be awful and dangerous to eat. Though we’re a small drop in the bucket of what gets produced in this country we are still apart of it and we take that responsibility seriously. The true ranching families of this country do care. They may not be our cuddly pets but we owe them a life of health and dignity before they feed us.