The Far Side of the Fence

 

Neil Harding McAlister

 

 

The dairy herd was gathered

Near the fence one summer day.

Young Gerty to the other calves

Was overheard to say,

 

“The grass on Farmer Potter’s side

Is greener than our own.

His cows must feast all winter long

On hay that he has grown.”

 

Old Bossy shook her head and mooed,

“It’s better to stay home.

Who knows what’s on the other side?

It’s dangerous to roam.”

 

But Gerty stomped and pawed the ground.

She knew what she would do.

She found a space between two posts,

And managed to squeeze through.

 

When evening came, the herd returned

For milking in the barn;

And Farmer Jones was short one calf,

So he raised an alarm!

 

Then Jones, his son, and Rex, their dog

Went searching high and low.

Jones phoned the neighbors all around

To see if they would know.

 

A few days passed. They found no trace

Of Gerty, dead or live,

’Til Farmer Potter wheeled his truck

Up Farmer Jones’s drive.

 

Poor Potter stood there, cap in hand,

His face looked sad and pained.

“Is something wrong, old friend?” Jones asked,

And Potter then explained:

 

“The story I’m about to tell

Is pretty grim, but true.

The long and short – I have a debt

That I must pay to you.

 

“I went to town the other day

And left my kids in charge

When fellers from the slaughterhouse

Fetched cattle from our yard.

 

“I thought that they had paid too much --

More money than they’d said.

But they are sure their count was right:

They took one extra head.

 

“I know that wanderin’ calf of yours

Was never meant for veal.

A stupid accident, it was.

You know I wouldn’t steal.”

 

With that, he pressed some money

Into Farmer Jones’s hand.

Jones said, “I thank you, neighbor, ‘cuz

You are an honest man.”

 

Out in the field, old Bossy sighed,

That young cow had no sense.

The grass is always greener on

The far side of the fence.     

 

© 2006, NHMcA

Scugog Township, Ontario, Canada