The day after an election, we still don't know who won, and in the end it's all about trust, isn't it?  Who is more trustworthy to protect freedom, keep the government out of my life, protect the minority view from being stifled. 

             An elderly neighbor with a small herd of 15 cows decided to call it quits recently and preferred to just liquidate in one fell swoop.  He had a hodge podge of cows and calves, some large unweaned and uncastrated bull calves--but they were healthy and sound.  We helped him liquidate by buying the whole menagerie.

             Some of our most instructive elements for our apprentices are when we engage with other people's cattle.  This was no different.  The most common observation at the end of the encounter is "wow, those cows aren't like Polyface cows."

             The bottom line of his statement is trust.  Sometimes other cows are fairly wild.  Normally, though, they're like these:  just stupid.  They don't know how to interact with humans because they haven't.  They just don't know what we want and it's hard for us to explain it to them.

             Our Polyface cows--and I'm using the term loosely here to include calves, stockers, heifers, finishers--interact with humans every day.  Daily moves from paddock to paddock ensure that they look forward to us coming and they actually learn to watch our movements, listen for our call.  The point is that they eagerly embrace interaction with us and have a deep, deep trust that we are watching out for their welfare.

             This means that both in the field and in the confines of a corral, they assume we know what we're doing and aim to please.  I'm not making this up.  Anyone who has not been up close and personal with the difference can't appreciate how profound it is.  But our apprentices see it immediately.  We never say anything about it when we work someone else's cattle.  But every time we're finished, the first words out of their mouths are "their cows aren't like yours (meaning Polyface)."

             Trust takes time.  You can't hurry it up.  You have to invest the time to repetitively establish positive interactions.  You can't force trust.  You can't mandate it.  You earn it, little by little, over time.  Sorting cows takes a third as long with our Polyface cattle as it does with others'.  Why?  Because ours trust us.

             That said, animals have a long memory, and if we abuse the trust and mishandle them, they may never respond the same.  Abuse has a long tail.  The same is true politically.  Those of us abused by bureaucrats have a long memory; I for one will never trust them.  Ditto businesses who don't pay their bills.  Or outfits that won't answer the phone.

             Trust goes hand in hand with honesty and consistent treatment.  You can't develop trust from a distance; you can't have it without communication.  You sure can't have it if you cancel the opposing view.  Our cows know we won't cancel them; we love them and want them to be successful.  Some respond to our management better than others, but our desire is to help all of them to be successful cows.

             I can trust anyone who I think has my best interests at heart; I can't trust anyone who demonstrates they don't have my best interests at heart.  What a blessing to know that while some other humans may think I'm an ogre, my cows think I'm their protector, encourager, and friend.  Anyone needing to experience real trust should come out to our farm right at sundown, lie down in the field with the cows, and enjoy their curious embrace.  They nuzzle, lick, sniff, nudge, but all with gentleness and mystery--and trust.

             Have you ever laid down in a field of cows and had them love on you?