“Do something Adolph!” Eleanor shrieked. Each blast from Adolph’s hot-shot shocked the cow forward crushing me even more over the post bar. I was in serious trouble and everyone knew it, but our options were nil and until divine intervention re-dealt the cards, my predicament was as it was.

“This must be how a cow dog feels when the feed truck backs over him,” I grimaced as the cow bore down on me. “I wonder if your pelvis goes numb once it collapses.”

Up until the previous second it was a great October afternoon. I had one hundred cows to preg-check on a nice fall day in Montana and I always enjoyed my time at the Alt ranch. Adolph and Eleanor were regulars and I always remember the winter of ‘83, when it seemed I did a c-section on one of their cows every Wednesday night. I enjoyed their company immensely; they were special and I will carry memories of them forever. It is great being a cow doctor.

We were just about done with the 99th cow locked in the squeeze chute and I stepped behind her. The head catch was worn from years of use and would intermittently snap open, so an iron post bar was wedged behind each cow to cram them forward. No problems…yet.

The last cow of the day is the last cow for a reason; she is usually a little crazy. The cowboy loading the tub had been fighting this last old bag all afternoon, when she spun and stared up the 50 foot long alleyway leading to the chute. Seizing the moment, he zapped her with his hot-shot and she exploded up the alley.

I have heard combat veterans philosophize you never hear the bullet that kills you. Apparently you don’t hear cows either. One second my left arm was green, warm and shoulder deep in the task at hand and the next second there were two cows, one skinny veterinarian, and one very stiff and unforgiving post bar occupying a space designed for a single cow. Laws of physics state no two solid objects can occupy the same space at the same time and that law is strictly enforced.

Every attempt to back up the crazy cow provoked her to panic further forward. I became lightheaded as the blood pooled in my legs, squished on the downhill side of the post bar. Miraculously, someone jerked the post bar free from the equation thereby leaving me smashed between two cows. Since cows are softer than post bars, that was heaven!

Suddenly, and just as quick and quietly as she arrived, the problem cow charged backwards out of the chute. End of story. To this day, whenever I am preg-checking cows, I keep all seven of my eyes trained on what is happening behind me.

Here is my point: Never let what is happening in front of you hide what might be happening behind you. In spite of the fact man caused climate change is an absolute fraud and Americans now understand it is impossible to give free healthcare to 300 million people without raising taxes or rationing care, Congress will pass both bills. Are they ignorant or is this just a diversion? Is there something even more devastating happening behind us? Figuratively, where is the last cow?

Here is an idea, and since turn-about is fair play; let’s flip their diversion against them. The two entities that protect Americans from a tyrannical government are the state legislature and the county sheriff. It is the state legislatures that ratified the US Constitution, so it is our job to set the boundaries for the federal government and not the other way around. Read the “Tenth Amendment”; it is explicitly clear. The Montana Made Firearm Freedom Act was a huge demonstration where true power constitutionally resides and other states are following our lead. Now is the perfect time for states to go on offense. With Congress and the Whitehouse attention diverted by all their new programs, state legislatures can simply nullify everything we deem unconstitutional. All we need is patriotic will power, one crazy cow, and a post bar.