Todd’s neighbor has raised good Hereford cattle as long as Todd has known him. As years went by Mr. Gerald, the neighbor, let his herd dwindle in numbers. Then last winter he fell and injured his knee.

I’ve had occasion to rub shoulders with influential people in the cattle business at all levels. I see them at state cattlemen’s meetings or serving on the Beef Board, at bull sales, giving speeches, expounding on political, economic or international subjects and people are listening to them! They may be elected by their peers, sought after for fiscal contributions, knowledge or heritage, or honored for their service to the industry. Their opinion matters. I have watched these influential men and women operate. They make decisions that ripple through our industry and affect many thousands of us.

Moustaches have become de rigueur in certain lifestyle choices: mountain men, Arctic explorers, Fu Man Chu-ists, carnival acts like the bearded lady and cowboy poets. As we know, if something becomes popular, the government soon tries to get involved.

It all started when my wife asked: “What happened to your head?” “Where?” I asked, thinking I had scratched it in the mesquite or during the night while I was sleeping someone had tattooed “KICK ME” across my forehead. She reached up and touched me above the left ear. “Oh,” I said, “I had a little hair trim.”

Henry David Thoreau wrote a whole book about a pond and never got wet. He simply took the time to ponder. I, too, find myself pondering life’s mysteries, like: What is the purpose of a dewclaw? To measure the dew? Why do horses have canine teeth? Were they once carnivores? How do sheep tell each other apart? Why do ants think they can drag a kibble of dog food back to the hill? Do they lack depth perception?

Getting bucked off is always a possibility in the life of a journeyman horse trainer. They take on horses to break and ride. Kayo (an alias to protect the guilty) had gained a good reputation for skilled horsemanship. Already accepted to vet school at WSU, Kayo could probably teach the faculty a lot about horse psychology. One of the local horse traders brought over a 6-year-old paint mare named Kahlua that had a bad reputation and needed some schooling. She liked to buck.

Grandpa Tommy was reminiscing, “It’s a shame everybody couldn’t go through the Great Depression.” I know what he meant – I think. He didn’t mean it like, “It’s a shame everybody hadn’t been in a concentration camp or had polio.” He was remarking that most of us baby boomers and younger are unable to appreciate how technology has pampered us.

This fall I’m watching Peyton Manning, one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL, follow in the footsteps of Bret Favre. They both had stellar careers as heroes of the game. But as their retirement drew near, they signed with a desperate team in hopes of one more year in the spotlight.

The rancher’s dilemma: If it snows, you don’t have enough hay. If it doesn’t snow, you won’t have any hay! See, heavy snows will delay “turning out to grass,” so you’ll be feeding more hay. But if it doesn’t snow the reservoir won’t fill up and you won’t have enough water to irrigate the hay meadows. You’re danged if you do and danged if you don’t.

Readers send me stories and ideas for the column. Sometimes they are so good they deserve retellin’ in their own words. This is Barry’s tale about a “real cowboy” named Otis. Otis wore his long-sleeved shirt and long-handled underwear winter and summer. It worked like a thermos, he claimed: cold in the summer and warm in the winter. His old Blanchard spurs left tracks in the dirt when he walked because the heels were so wore down on his boots.