Cows are Silly, Too

Chickens are inherently silly. There's just something in their nature that makes them prone to hissy-fits, and a chicken having a hissy-fit is a purely funny sight to see.

A whole coop of 'em will send you off giggling by the truckload.

Desert Cat knows these things, and is entertained accordingly. http://desertcat.blogspot.com/2005/08/way-with-words.html

Cows, now, are pretty silly too.

Sometimes it's because people do silly things through their cows. One of my favorite dubious human/cow interactions is a game called Tax Cow. Which, actually, is maybe more practical than silly.

As a theoretical example - nothing more - say you're someone like the Winningest Coach in Football History. You may have this problem: too much capital, and too little time or interest to watch over it very closely. You do, of course, want it to be safe.

But the good news is, being a big-time football hero, you can get away with a few things that others can't.

So, say you invest some of that capital in a parcel of raw land in Miami Lakes, FL. It's urban property, ideally located, surrounded by campus-type office developments. One day, this piece will also be ripe for such picking. But not yet. Best to sit on it a while, first. The value is only going to go up.

Problem with raw land is that there's rarely any income from it. I mean, that's the whole point. It's waiting to be developed and generate income. Urban raw land, anyway.

This shouldn't matter much, since raw land has few expenses. A little mowing and fence repair, maybe some liability insurance...And taxes.

Agricultural raw land has very low taxes. That's true all over America. It's been done that way historically to give farmers a break. Farming needs bigger pieces of land, and a higher tax rate would wipe them out in one year.

Urban raw land is a different story. The county property appraiser is no dummy. The appraiser's office understands this is quite valuable nonagricultural raw land, intended for future commercial use, and taxes it accordingly.

This puts you seriously in the red on your land, as you sit letting it ripen. What a dilemma! More time to ripen is very good. But more time also means "feeding the pig" in the face of no current return.

So: Perhaps the problem can be fixed if we turn it into farmland.

Thus, the birth of the Tax Cow.

If you can just put some cows on that land, it's not urban any more! It's FARMLAND! Why, look! it's growing COWS!

And your taxes decrease accordingly. Say in a ratio of about $10,000/year to $100/year in taxes.

Neat trick, huh?

Of course, people growing 5 acres of bell peppers in Homestead - it really was homesteaded, those little bits of land with a little house - anyway, those low-income farmers have to pay property taxes for a HOUSE. Not for ag land. It costs them another $1000 - $3,000/year or so, because they're zoned residential now. Even though it was homesteaded, and intended to be ag land, and is growing actual cash-crop food on the land, which enterprise is usually called Farming.

I never did get that one.

See, Tax Cows don't actually do anything with that land but walk around on it. There's no food or water for them because it's not ag land. Really, you wouldn't want them eating there anyway. You know what urban raw land looks like, broken glass and trash and rusty wires and illegal chemical dumping and unhealthy weeds and crap everywhere. And, generally speaking, no cow tank (ie pond) for them to drink from. Should you be comfortable with them doing so.

But you save so very much on taxes, it's worth it to you to truck in their food and water every day.

This creates a cow who believes that Food is something that Humans bring to the Fence and Chuck it Over for you to Eat.

A not unreasonable belief, on the cow's part.

So one day, I was driving around the Florida countryside scarfing rocks. Nice big fossiliferous lime rocks, for landscaping my yard. This is legal if it's on public right-of-way and if it's legal to park. No nefarious deeds there.

The public right-of-way generally starts at the shoulder of the road, and goes to where the ranchers etc. put a fence. The county employees who mow the right-of-way don't like encountering rocks there. They chew up the mowing machines and disrupt the smooth rhythm of their work. So if a rock is in the way, they'll toss it over to the fence, right on the property line, out of everyone's way. Now they can do their job.

And here comes k, pulling the car up to the fence to get that obnoxious tossed-away rock, poor thing getting all disrespected when all it ever wanted was a good home where it's appreciated and --

Where was I?

Oh yeah.

We grow lots and lots of cattle here, more than Texas sometimes. That's a lot of cows. I often see them off in the distance on the other side of that fence. As I did this fine day.

I was working on a particularly large rock, muscling and leveraging it into the car. Walter is always impressed to see my takings. It's really quite absorbing work.

When I came up for air, I felt a Presence close by. Very close by.

It was about 300 head of cattle, all looking at me through the barbed wire.

This barbed wire suddenly didn't look so substantial.

Especially when being bent outward by the pressure of 300 hungry cows, who thought I was bringing Food. Of the kind that Humans bring to the Fence and Chuck it Over for you to Eat.

They must have been passed the word from Miami Lakes.

Luckily, these were Simple Country Cows. Not those Urban Tax Cows. They were curious and hopeful, but perfectly polite when I explained I had nothing to feed them with.

Nonetheless, I got into that car and drove off.

With my rock.

Of course.