Wet, Cold and Wind

It had been a good year for the ranchers.
The rains had doused the drought,
The hay crop was good
The gas prices were lower, cattle prices higher.

This was going to be the year to make some money,
Money to tide them over during the down years,
Money to invest in their ranch and herd.
Things were looking good.

The early storm came with all its fury.
It came before the cattle grew their winter coats.
It bore down before the income cattle had been sent to the stock yards for the year.
It swept in before the rest of the herd were in the winter pastures.

It was wet, followed by cold, and then the wind.
The wind was relentless, suffocating cattle in the wet snow,
Blinding those who wandered far from the pasture,
Killing many from exposure.

The ranchers were helpless. They could only wait it out.
After it was over they rode their pastures, trying to save cattle that survived.
Some were too sick to make it.
The rest had to be buried.

They buried them by the hundreds,
As the snow melted they found more bodies,
Mothers lying next to their calves,

Trying to protect them the best they could.

Now ranchers are a hardy bunch.
They have to be. Ranching is a tough business.
They build a herd over the years
Only to watch helplessly as they lose them one by one.

The next time you enjoy a steak or burger,
Think for a brief minute of our South Dakota ranchers.
They love the land, they care for their herds.
They will never forget the October storm of 2013.

Fly Over Zone Even During Disaster

Thousands of cattle are dead and more are dying. The early wet and windy snow storm caught everyone off guard. We all knew that it was coming, but for many ranchers it was too late to move their herds to winter pastures. That is a process that takes days and weeks. Also the cattle did not yet have their winter coats to protect them from the strong winds and extremely wet snow. Some herds in their winter pastures still met the same fate, suffocating in the blowing drifts or dying from exposure or pneumonia in their light summer coats. Difficult as it is to believe, even some of the hardy bison fell to the fury of this early storm.

Some ranchers lost most of the herds they had nurtured and developed for years while others lost a fourth or more.  How can they recover? Insurance can not make up such extreme losses. Prized bulls carefully bred to grow the herds perished along with champion horses. South Dakota ranchers are devastated, emotionally, physically and financially. Ranching is the number one industry in our state and this storm came after years of drought that brought the industry to almost a breaking point. The loss of these cattle that were getting ready to be shipped after the first decent year of rain and abundant hay, cannot be measured. How can you measure the complete loss of a lifetime, or several generations, in terms of money? How can you begin to realize the grief of a rancher who lost most of his cattle in the prime of their calving years? Who can balance the tipping point in terms of money, loans, time or years of uncertainty with drought and high diesel prices?

There were numerous cattle, ready to be shipped, that died in the stock yards. They were trapped, as I imagine many of our ranchers feel. It is well-known that ranchers are a hardy stock of people. They have had to be, living with storms, drought and fluctuating cattle prices. But I am so afraid that for some this may be the last straw. Now many of the large corporations have an opportunity to swoop in and take over the land that has been owned for many generations by individual families who loved the land and their herds.

To top it all off, the national media gave only a glancing nod to this story. I realize that we are "the fly over zone" and are largely ignored. That is one of the attractions of the area. We love the lack of notoriety and sensationalism and high drama of the two coasts. We cherish the smaller population, clean air, water and low traffic and crime. But for the nation to ignore the plight of our ranchers and their heartbreaking stories seems appalling. South Dakota may be less in numbers, but we provide much of the nation with its low-cost meat, raised by our ranchers who care about the quality of their beef and the integrity of their land. These ranchers and we local residents who enjoy seeing the tractors, cattle and bulging hay trucks rumble through our down-town main streets, do not want to lose this way of life.

We felt the spirit of the area when we first moved here. We were entering the lobby of a local bank to open an account when a rancher- stained cowboy hat, jeans and well-worn boots - had sauntered past us from the bank on his way to his truck. One of the tellers in high heels and dainty dress was mopping the floor. The smell of hay and cattle dung still clung in the air. As she sprayed the lobby she replied cheerily, "Just one of our services".

Hello, out there, you national media! There are wonderful stories to share with the world from those who supply you with your steaks and hamburger. There has been one source of thorough and heartfelt coverage that I have seen by an on-line news magazine. It will be well worth your time to check it out.

Visit  www.RealAmericanCowboyMagazine.com
"The Perfect Storm - Hell Strikes South Dakota" October 10
by Hope Sickler

We may be low in numbers but we represent the heart of America. Some say we are the "real Americans", not those portrayed by the movies. Whatever we are, our ranchers are hurting. We all know it. If only the rest of the world would understand. But, as I hear from friends from other states, they only heard a "small bit" on their news. That small bit is huge to us in America's heartland.

The Neighborhood Dog

It all began a few months ago. We saw the ambulance stop at our neighbor's house. They were new to our neighborhood and I moaned to my husband, "I never got over to greet the new folks and now one of them is being taken by ambulance. Why didn't I get over sooner with a pot of chili and a welcome? Now we may never meet whoever left in the ambulance and the woman who followed in her car."

They lived two doors down from us. Eric, the neighbor in between, told me that the guy was a veteran and the ambulance brought him to our VA. I fretted about the dog I had passed in the kennel behind their house on my way to the store. She would bark and snarl even when I tried to talk with her in a "doggy voice."

Now the dog was not the least bit friendly, but I worried that she was left alone in her kennel during the emergency. Eric told me that someone was feeding and watering the dog, but that was it. The caretaker asked Eric if he would walk the dog. Eric spent several days making friends with the dog. He brought her treats but was concerned about her temperament and docility if she were taken from her kennel.

One day Eric appeared at our front door with the leashed dog. Her name was Amber. Her coat was golden and she had brown eyes in a face that now looked sweet and friendly. Her tail wagged furiously, and off we went for a walk.

Amber is now a community dog. Some days Eric walks her and at other times my husband and I take her out. Each time we pass her in the alley she wags her tail, whines and jumps up and down with delight. She even recognizes our car when I drive by, roll down the window and spend a few minutes chatting with her.

She is so eager to go for a walk, but not having been obedience-trained, will tug at the leash. I struggle with bad-back issues, so when I take her by myself, I go to a park, take her into an enclosed baseball diamond and throw a ball until she is tired out. No matter how long she gets to run, she whines and jumps up and down when I bring her back to her kennel. It isn't easy to leave her for another day.

Eric brought her a dog house and sleeping bag in anticipation of colder weather. He has a kind heart.

Whey do we do what we do? Well, I, for one, cannot stand to walk past a lonely dog and ignore her pleas. But another reason is that the owner is a veteran. Since all of the government closures at our VA he had to go to Minneapolis for treatment no longer offered here and will be heading to another VA in Omaha for surgery that was once offered at our VA. His partner spends many hours on the road to be with him in Minnesota and still keep her job in Hot Springs.

Amber belongs to a veteran who once served his country. His benefits are being drained away, but his dog shouldn't have to suffer because of a stupid bureaucracy far from the front lines of veterans needing health care. This same government should not turn a blind eye. The officials will have superb health care for their lifetimes. Our veterans deserve no less.

Meanwhile, Amber will get her walks and a lot of loving while her owner is at a VA hospital far away.