Any Texan could tell you to use at least a 5-strand bob-wire fence for Longhorns.
“Higher Level Stewardship.” Grandiose, self-congratulatory bunkum from otherwise-unemployable government parasites.
Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above,
Don't fence me out.
Let me roam through the wide open country that I love,
Don't fence me out.
Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze,
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,
Send me off forever but I ask you please,
Don't fence me out.
When I first moved to the mountains many many years ago, the electricity would pop off and come right back on again around 11 a.m. almost every day. They finaly traced it to a bull who was using a utility pole as a scratching post.
Well, really, how do we know that’s not what the stones were put there for? It’s a giant cow playground. The ancients really liked to keep their cows entertained.
“Moo…” [BANG!] “…mooo…”