I'm an avid animal watcher. No matter what the animal, if it's in sight, I'm watching it. I don't know if this quirk is born of curiosity or fear.
Between my home and my workplace lies twenty-five miles of mostly open pastureland filled with everything from emus to llamas. Everyday I drive along, observing the various herds belonging to the local farmers and ranchers. I envy them in some ways, owning all that beautiful Texas countryside, rolling hills, ponds, branches, creeks and oak groves, but then, when I think of the work that goes into keeping their pastures free of mesquite and prickly pear, I say "God Bless Them, Everyone!"
Anyhoo, I'm driving and watching. In some pastures all the cows are facing north, in other pastures, they are facing west or south. Sometimes, they are all grazing. Other times, they are all lying down. I know that beasts of the field live by different rules from people and that they share something called the herd mentality or mass animal mind, but how, I asked myself, is it that some pastures are south-facing while others are north-facing on the same day?
It suddenly occurred to me today that it must be a contractual thing. I suddenly discovered by direct observation the following fact:
There is a bridge half way between my home and work. That bridge crosses a river and it is also the county line. All the lying down cows were in the county I work in. All the standing up cows were in the county I live in. VOILA!!
Cows in Mills County are working on a different schedule from those in San Saba County.
D'oh!! How dumb can I be?