Lousy Cows

Every summer, our cows would get lousy. Their backs were especially vulnerable. The orange and white Hereford cattle would become black and orange as millions of tiny biting insects took up residence in their hair. This, of course, was rather painful for the poor cows. They would rub up against trees, posts, barbed wire fences, or pickup trucks, anything to relieve the infernal pain and itching. And just like a schoolyard lice problem, those little insects would spread to the whole herd in an instant.

  There were several methods used to delouse a cow. In the past, large dipping troughs were used. A long concrete pool was built in a narrow lane. The cattle were driven off a ledge into the deepest part of the pool. The cattle would take a dip and swim to the other side which sloped gently out of the water. A large herd could be dipped rather quickly, but new medicines had made this technique a thing of the past. Most ranchers, instead, hung a sponge-like rope across an open gateway. It was permeated with the lice-killing pesticide. When the cows came in to get water, they ducked under the rope and consequently, it was dragged across the cows’ backs. This applied plenty of medication several times a day. However, it got messy moving it when you needed to drive a truck through the  gate. That operation required the cowboy to get out of the truck and manhandle the unwieldy soaked rope to be able to pull the truck through the open gate. 

We had driven to the Hogan for the sole purpose of medicating a particularly lousy cow. One could see the little buggers moving through the hide. I had already endured the long drive out. Earl wouldn't allow me to place the gallon jug of medicine in the pickup bed filled with the rotten hay and a menagerie of other unknown objects. Instead, it sloshed around down at my feet. The medication was a foul smelling, noxious chemical that made my head swim. One whiff of this stuff and the lice would run away from the smell alone!

 We got to the Hogan and herded the animal into the round loading corral. It was big enough for the cow to move around, but not big enough for her to run off. Earl was rummaging in his pickup as I tied the gate shut. When I walked over, he was in the process of tying one half of a soda can to a long stick. This was to be our new medicating device. The medication had to be poured down the length of the spine to work effectively. The biggest problem was that the cow hated the medicine about as much as the lice did. Earl told me to get into the corral with the cow. He handed me this stick and tried to fill the soda can. Most of the medicine ran out onto the ground. Whether it was from his poor eyesight or my utter fear of the horned beast behind me, I'll never know.  Probably both. The cow got a little more jittery as the smell permeated the corral. I turned slowly and hesitantly held the makeshift dipper over the cow's back. I turned over the can with a sweeping motion missing most of the cow, but getting enough on her that she now understood my actions. I threw the stick at the Cow as she charged me, horns down. In a split second, I found myself standing next to Earl. I don't remember jumping the fence. Earl looked at our broken and crushed dipper, shook his head, and went to make another one.

 I spent the rest of the morning filling the can and watching Earl, as he repeatedly flung cans of pesticide at the cow from the safe side of the gate. When the gallon jug was empty, we let the enraged cow loose. She nearly tore through two fences as she ran away from the two terrible creatures spraying foul smelling liquid at her. I don't know if she was ever cured of lice, but I know that I got enough of that stuff on me to keep the little buggers off of me for life. Earl definitely could not see well enough to throw liquid at anything, let alone a moving, charging, enraged, lousy cow. Meanwhile, I endured the rest of the day smelling like I had taken a swim in the old dipping tanks.

My poor mother had to wash our extremely dirty laundry.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she just dropped those clothes in the outside trash can.  Even 40 years later, I sometimes get an uncanny whiff of that smell and it makes my skin crawl.  I think my brain is remembering all those lice and that stupid lousy cow.