01/18/08 Cowboy convert

Today, I'll share a letter sent to me. I'm Jeff Keane; I'll be right back. This is the time-edited letter from an anonymous cowboy convert. I was raised a city boy. The only reason I ever got up early was to leave for vacation. When I was a teenager and old enough for my first job, my mom told me the good news. I was now a summertime farmhand. Is the sun always this bright at 5 a.m? I spent the first month on my backside as the tractor I was piloting went around and around. Does dirt and diesel ever get to taste better? One day the boss told me to help him with the cattle. A promotion? Seems one of the cows was about to give birth but something was wrong. Small hooves protruded from somewhere I had very little knowledge of. The boss said we needed to get the animal in a chute. I always thought a chute was a nice way of swearing. Finally after some real swearing the culprit was in place. I was really more concerned with the amount of cow poop wrapped around my Keds. The boss said to roll up my sleeves. Huh? Reach in and what? I'm not sticking my hands in  feel for what? No, I don't feel a head, but I am starting to feel sick. Can I go home now? Oh, I get it. Tie off the hooves and start pulling. Eventually out popped the calf all wet, slimy and stinking. I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life! I went home with a whole lot of the country on my clothes and in my heart. That day, this city boy became a cowboy! Wait a minute! You know this guy  he's Northwest Ag Information Network reporter, Greg Martin and I'm Jeff Keane.