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Wolves
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Copied off Facebook.
That’s me standing over the remains of our neighbor’s calf after
Lindsay Martin and I found it.
The calf had been killed by wolves, the same wolves I posted
about in my videos. The calf was still warm. We had disturbed the kill. The cow
was standing right there beside her dead calf.
And that same day, the crew found another calf of ours that had
been killed.
There’s no fence between wildlife and livestock when you’re the
one standing in the pasture looking at what’s left. There’s just a mama cow
that doesn’t understand where her baby went, and a rancher who has to walk away
knowing there’s nothing they can do.
This picture isn’t about hating wolves. It’s about recognizing
what happens when rapidly growing wolf packs are brought into a landscape that
doesn’t have the wild prey populations to sustain them. When there isn’t enough
natural prey to support these packs, our livestock become the next target.
And that’s where this stops being an abstract conversation about
wildlife and becomes very real for the families standing in these pastures. The
cost is paid by ranchers, their livelihoods, and animals that had absolutely no
choice in being caught in the middle.
For us, these aren’t numbers. They’re calves we raised, watched
grow, and cared about.
This is the part of the wolf conversation I wish more people
could see. Not a debate. Not a statistic. Just a mama standing over her
yearling, a calf that should still be alive, and ranchers left to deal with the
aftermath.
Econazis don’t care about facts, only their feelings.
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Locals in those areas know the critters are not bothered, at worse, inconvenienced, by drilling rigs. Their biggest danger is getting hit with vehicles.
Bottom Line First
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Somewhere in some past business class or seminar we were told different people learn best five individual ways, reading, kinesthetic, auditory, visual or logical (analytical). My preferred way is reading and logical.
YouTube is overflowing with informative offerings that initially interest me but are seldom viewed in their entirety because they don’t get to the f**king point!
Bottom line first. Example: Properly prepared African oddlebug wing extract will instantly cure impotence, followed by a presentation involving all five ways various people learn. Good!
Bad. The usual way: Suffer from impotence? A centuries old formula will instantly cure your problem, followed by fifteen minutes of five ways word salad before getting to African oddlebug wing extract.
About five minutes into their presentation I’ve moved on. Yes, at the end they want to sell me their product. That I don’t mind. Just put the bottom line first, please!
(Before you ask, I don’t know if there is African oddlebug wing extract)
Wyoming Border Patrol
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Google is aware of the ongoing Blogger Reading List bug, but there is no official timeline or estimated time of arrival (ETA) for a fix.
Google Help
Current Status
·
Known Issue: The broken Reading List feature
has been reported by multiple users and escalated to the Blogger team.
·
No ETA: Google has not announced when a
permanent fix will be released.
Google Help
Anyone know how we can fix this? While reading all your posts is difficult I will continue reading them and hope the problem gets fixed.
In the future I won’t be using new Google apps.
Car Story
An account of a gullible Canadian’s greed and arrogance biting him in the wallet.
“Tank, you are a kinky m_____f_____!” That was high praise from my crew chief, Ed Jones, as he reviewed my sale of a Skoda to a Canuck.
The dealership would take nearly anything in trade; boats, snowmobiles, farm tractors, season tickets, jewelry, etc. if it made a sale. Somehow we acquired a Skoda, a car not for sale in the US. Worse, with no legal way to sell it in the US other than scrap.
The fastest way for seasoned salesmen to disappear like an idle PFC spotting a SGT was seeing a Canadian license plate on a car entering the lot. They loved to visit, waste our time, and never buy anything. It seemed to be a sport for them.
A rental car came on the lot and I pounced. Woody time! Rental=need buyer=sale! After greeting him, damned if he wasn’t a Canadian. Channeling my inner Rudy Russo (*) I showed him the Skoda and explained Skodas were for sale in Canada, that Canadians could own them, and my manager would likely sell the Skoda for a steeply discounted price. Why? It was a hassle for us to take a car to the B.C Auto Auction. The sale was made. (I wasn’t sure there was an auto auction in B.C)
What followed was a month of phone calls as Canadian Customs turned him away. We refused to refund his money.
Perhaps I should have extended good customer service by telling him to go to Lynden, over to the Indian Casino right on the border (Road O for those interested) and use the back roads to get home.
Customs? What customs.
As always, YMMV
4 comments:
A little long but here goes. In 1995 Mrs. accompanied me to a trade show in Seattle, after which we rented a car and took the ferry (more like a ship, really, and we saw whales) from Port Angles to Victoria Island, B.C. and had a pretty good time. High tea at the Empress Hotel and visited the botanical gardens, both of which I enjoyed a whole lot more than I was looking forward to. One night we had dinner in a basement restaurant. As usual, Mrs. had something fru-fru while I had the caribou lasagna that was so good I can still taste it. Our waiter, though, kept jabbing at the knuckle-dragging Ugly American about how wonderful Bill Clinton was doing such a good job ruining, or maybe it was running, the country, but I didn't let the smarmy little shit ruin my dinner by acknowledging his veiled insults. You can't let the terrorists win, after all.
In my mind's eye, I still fondly imagine him standing by the table with his hand out waiting for a generous tip that will not come in my lifetime, now augmented by imagining that same waiter as the proud owner of a Skoda sold to him during a trip to the Lower 48 by one WSF. Good job, Sir.
We made that same trip and stayed at the Empress. Mine was for a trade show. A self important thirty something female customs agent took an hour to determine my samples were subject to a tariff and we missed the ferry sailing by ten minutes. 1 1/2 hours sitting in the parking lot waiting for the next ferry wasn't a high point in our marraige.
My Canadian experiences run about 75%-25% with 75% good and 25% making me vow to never come back unless for business.
Yep, things are getting a bit 'ragged' up there with all the crap coming apart in Colorado. Between the ski area housing problem, the wolves, and the globull warming nuts, it's just a question of time before it blows up in their faces!
The State has a long history of boom and bust along with financial improprieties, swindles and general dirty dealings.
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