I got a friend in Nebraska named Harry. He’s got the biggest cattle ranch in the county. So we were sitting around one day, drinking beer, spittin’ seeds, and diggin’ mud from our vibram soles.
“So, Harry... how can you tell when the cows are happy?”
“Whadya mean? Cows don’t talk ya’ damn fool.”
“I know. But how do you know if the herd is happy. You do want them to be happy, right?
“Well, that’s easy. Even a gigolo from New Jersey can answer that. It’s like this. When a cow is happy, it don’t need much. All it wants is to eat, sleep, and scratch itself on the nearest hedge post.”
“What about when it’s unhappy? I asked.
“Man, you are stupid. When a cow is unhappy, it’s usually stressed about something. Could be the weather over the hill. Or a wolf holler from afar. It don’t take much. Even the constant noise of machinery will set it off. And then I look at how it acts.”
“How’s that?
“Well, it eats more, for starters. Because it won’t stand still. A nervous cow is always twitching. Trying to swat flies when they ain’t even there. So the feed trough goes empty quicker. And they need more water. But I don’t give ‘em that perfumed stuff you buy at the mall. They also get sick and catch any damn flu that comes along.”
“So how does that affect the business, raising cows?”
“Man, you’re dumber than Angus horns on a Cadillac. Why, I gots to buy more feed from the store. A lot more. And medical supplies. Like stuff to make them potent when they don’t feel like “knowing” the cow next door.
“And if you could comfort the cows?”
“Any damn fool would do that. But all the people making money from their distress would get pissed. It’s not good business for the folks that control things to have happy cows. Why, it affects production, distribution, media, and that longterm goal—retirement.”
“Gotcha... so how do you handle it?”
“That’s easy. The ones that eat more go to the slaughterhouse quicker. But a few smart ones jump the fence. And I’m happy losing a few, ‘cause I can’t have them teaching the others to do the same.”
“Thanks for setting me straight, Harry. What do you say we run into town. I got this one gal in mind.”
“Son, you ain’t learned a damn thing. Let’s walk into town. I got more than one.”