My British White Cattle Song

July 1,2014

Dear Cowboys and Cowgals,

Welcome to the “Musings” section of the President’s page, which came about because every now and again a guy has thoughts about life or finds something funny or interesting that would be great to share with friends. I hope you enjoy it.

Whenever I feel a little odd in the throat or funny in the head, I pour a dash of olive oil and seven drops of oregano oil on a spoon and then down it. Usually, in a couple hours, all my undesirable symptoms are gone even though there is a serious amount of sneezing, sniffing and hankywork going on around me.

The only trouble with my remedy, though, is that I have to actually take it. I can’t just realize I should take it, plan to take it or even actually stand by the kitchen shelves, intending to take it, and then get distracted. None of this works.

Anyway, I caught a cold on Sunday and sometime, late in the night, I lay awake hacking and coughing with the tune “Home on the Range” going through my head. I was also thinking about having to go over east in the morning, in the rain, and turn on the well for the heifer bunch. Somehow, “Home on the Range” and the cattle got mixed up together and produced the song I have recorded below.

Now, remember, the melody is like “Home on the Range”, and it works out really well if you sing it slowly, with great feeling and using many dramatic arm movements.(Don’t worry if your dog starts howling in the background; it’ll actully make it better.)

The cows on my hills
Aren’t just run of the mills.
They have highlights of black on their face.
There is black on their hocks.
On their boots and their socks
And white on the rest of the space.

Home, home on my range
Where the neighbors think British Whites cool.
They are docile and cute
And quite calm in the chute
And my kids want to ride them to school.

Jonathan Wiechmann