Pets or Property

I was fortunate to be a guest on a podcast last week.

I’ve never been a guest on a podcast before.

In fact, I’ve been a bit confused about exactly what a podcast really is.

Turns out, a podcast is talk show radio from your computer.

This podcast is called Know Normal People.

Either you know people who are normal or normal people don’t exist, your choice.

The hosts, Stephen and Dixie, asked lots of questions, but the single question that stuck with me was about my pets.

Stephen and Dixie live in Billings and consider themselves urbanites who have little experience with country living.

They wanted to know if my cattle and sheep are pets or property that I own, like my hat.

Their question touched on a common misunderstanding among people who don’t raise animals for food.

How is it possible to care for animals without turning them into pets?

Even worse, how can you sell your pet?

Stephen and Dixie were seeking understanding, not judging my morals.

But their question implied what so many urban dwellers conclude -- that only a cold-hearted, money-grubbing capitalist devil would accept money in return for a loved one.

I won’t speak for every rancher, only myself, but this black-and-white version of livestock is not my reality.

It isn’t an either-or question.

My relationship with my livestock is more of a continuum.

Yes, I own them.

On the surface, they are interchangeable chattel.

They contribute to my economic wellbeing.

They are property.

Yet, we are partners.

My goal is to care for this land, which requires money and strategic forage harvests.

Their goal is to eat, drink, chew cud and be safe.

We need one another to reach our respective goals.

Partnership means each of us contributes. Each of us depends on the others.

I get to make decisions, but I rely on my cattle, sheep and horses to do their part.

They are not interchangeable chattel.

I laugh at their antics and they know my voice.

That’s one reason it is so hard to sell them during a drought – I am not holding up my end of the deal.

My cows don’t need me to coddle them, like I hear about people coddling their misbehaving, yappy dogs.

In fact, cows do not thrive when they are subjected to conditions that humans think are preferable.

Cows get sick when they are confined to closed-in areas and fed high-energy diets.

They don’t want to sink into a comfy recliner with a bowl of ice cream to binge-watch Big Bang Theory.

They do need me to provide food, water and places to get out of the wind. In return, they do their part by turning grass into meat, planting seeds for new grass and fertilizing the soil.

And paying my bills.

Our partnership can not exist unless I pay my bills.

That means they would not reach their goals either. In fact, they would never be born.

On the continuum, I have respect for my livestock and their contributions. I don’t love them as I love my kids – or my pets -- but I don’t discount them as a throw-away magazine I just read.

I respect them as I respect every partner.

I have no idea whether I conveyed this more complicated continuum well during my conversation with Stephen and Dixie, but I hope I at least opened their minds to see more than black and white.

Just like everything in this world, it’s more of a gray scale than either one way or the other.

If you get a chance, check out Know Normal People.

The episode with my interview is scheduled to be posted in October.