No. 100, June 2009
By Delores Miller
Seven a.m., the alarm went out. Felauer's cattle
Twenty Holstein steers, weighing 600 pounds each had disappeared during a torrential downpour of rain, thunder and lightning
at midnight. So the theory went.
Wisconsin cattle are calm and docile. Locked
in a barn yard, fed shelled corn and hay
twice a day, water tank always filled. No
need to look for greener pastures.
Few farmers left in this area. We Millers
have no fences left. This is an area of
new homes in former farming fields.
Subdivisions of half million dollar homes.
A barking dog on Ed Felauer's farm,
used to guard the chickens and turkeys
must have frightened the cattle, who
pushed down the electric fence. Dark
of night on country roads they roamed.
Ed finally realized his cattle were gone.
Rustlers, no, but where could they have
disappeared. The rain had washed out
all tracks and signs.
Well it seems the cattle headed east
for a mile, split in two packs. Wandered
until they found more cattle, who were
eating. These two kind farmers opened
their gates, gently nudged in these
stray cattle, who were by this time tired
Called around, even to us and we sent
word it may be the man across the road
who has a few cattle, but no his were
Finally Ed found all twenty head,
hauled his trailer and truck, loaded
them up and brought them home.
Where they are now locked in
detention in the barn with strong
steel gates, so no more barking
dog can tempt them to runaway
down the road.
Just remember this is where your
beef comes from next time you are
in the grocery store looking at
hamburger. Is this from a
copyright 2009, Delores and Russell Miller