Hank Huntington: Cows Gone Wild

I spent too much time on the Tekamah farm socializing. That is what happens when you know people really well and enjoy their company. The farm just west of my home is right along the Missouri River and has timber, pasture, and crops. I also socialize there too. It is ideal turkey country and the ground has always held a plentiful supply of nice big birds. On my scouting trip this year, I did not see the size, but there was plenty of quantity. It is meat and not size that these trips are all about.

With a couple of days of drying out, the road into the farm was good and firm. Next there was a minor situation that took place. My wife and I take our blue grass clippings over to feed the cattle, and when they see the truck they all come running for freshly cut grass. On this trip the cattle coming to the truck was no exception.

Parking near an abandoned building, the cows came right up to the truck to get a handout, but all they saw was me packing up my gear and walking toward a fenceline that bordered a cornfield and the pasture.

They followed. Right behind me came a line of cows waiting for food and at times they were within three feet of me. I had to walk about two thirds of a mile to get to my hiding place, but I didn't want these cattle anywhere near me. My concern was if a big tom appeared, there was no way a score could be made with the herd hanging around.

The bull on the left made me nervous, but all he wanted was blue grass.

Over and over again, I tried to shoo them off, but to no avail. Finally, I got to my place and climbed over a downed tree to stow my gear. They came right to the tree, stood and stared at me and would not leave. So I took the decoy bags out around them and set up the decoys. Everywhere I went the cows followed.

This cow just wanted to hang out with me.

I hid in some fallen timber. They finally gave up and moved on, but not far. If I got out of my hiding place, a cow or two would come immediately to see if there was some form of a handout. It is obvious, they remember.

All in all, I saw nothing, heard nothing, and folded my tent. In other words, I gave up after about three hours.

There was no way that I was going to get a shot if something showed up.

After mowing the next day, my wife and I drove over to the pasture and the cattle followed the truck to where we unloaded the freshly cut blue grass.

I don't think I can ever eat beef again.

Good hunting, good fishing, and good luck. Hank