Mournful Mooing

Being Eighty-Fived?

Mournful Mooing

“Why in the world are you just standing there?”  I asked the huge Angus Steer, Eighty-Five.  “That mournful mooing isn’t doing you any good at all!”

Of course, I already knew why he was acting this way.  It was separation time.  The Dexter breed were standing across the fence from him eating.  He was standing next to the bull feeder, where he is normally fed.  He’d watched as I threw hay over the fence to the reddish-brown clan of cows he usually shared food with.  But, if Eighty-Five is one thing, he is stubborn.

After feeding the Dexters, with the Angus looking-on, I loaded up the wheelbarrow with more hay and walked right toward the bull feeder and the Three-Big-Boys, so they’d see their food and follow me to the paddock.  I walked slowly, using an encouraging, “come-on, follow me” speech.  The sound of heavy, lugging footsteps fell in behind me, so I didn’t bother to look back until I reached the paddock and ejected the carried-dinner for the lumbering, hungry steers.  But, only two had come.

“That’s odd!”  I exclaimed, as if speaking to an unseen friend.

With wheelbarrow in hand and the missing steer in sight I left the paddock and walked forward toward him.  His feet were planted firmly in the ground.  His eyes were focused, gazing, coveting the forage being eaten by his adopted bovine clan.  Saliva was streaming from all corners of his mouth and it dripped toward the ground as he verbalized his displeasure of self-professed injustice.

“You realize all you need to do is to turn a little to your right and walk?  Right?”  I chided with a chuckle.  “Your behavior is pathetic!  Your decision to just stand here, looking over that fence, while complaining in full bellyache tone doesn’t accomplish anything.  When you decide to take even one step toward earning what you want, your situation will change completely!”

Then, I took a step forward, away from him, to leave, while continuing to hear his self-pronouncing song of injustice.  For one brief moment a thought of intervention entered my mind, because of his repeated call.  I paused.

“He’ll figure it out!”  I huffed, while walking on.

He stood.  I left.

I left again in the morning.  This time from my home. The cool wet grass was soft under foot as I walked through the field, past the food-anticipating Dexter, toward the bull feeder where Eighty-Five had been standing the night before.  A smile spread across my face when he wasn’t there.

“Why in the world are you just standing there?”  I had asked the huge Angus Steer, Eighty-Five, the night before.  “That mournful mooing isn’t doing you any good at all!”

Of course, I already knew why he was acting this way.  It was separation time.  The Dexter breed were standing across the fence from him, eating.  He was standing next to the bull feeder, where he is normally fed.  He’d watched as I threw hay over the fence to the reddish-brown clan of cows.  But, if Eighty-Five is one thing, he is stubborn.

“I can be just as stubborn as he had been at times!”  I said to myself as I filled the wheelbarrow with hay for the Three-Big-Boys standing, waiting for me in the paddock.  “I just hope I can always be smart enough not to Eighty-Five myself in the future!”  

Now, or in our future, there will likely be a time when our eyes, yours or mine, are focused, gazing, coveting the things or accomplishments of our neighbor. Yes, we may even have saliva, born of personal desire, streaming from all corners of our mouth as we verbalize our displeasure of self-proclaimed injustice in mournful manner.  But, we should never Eighty-Five ourselves!  

After all, one hulking steer has shown us that we simply need to turn to our right, or left, and walk, forward to our desired accomplishment or destination and work.  When you and I decide to take even one step toward earning what we want, we change our present situation completely!