ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local grazier has told The Advocate that he has a dim view of people who simply run cattle, telling our reporter that he finds the practice of grazing cattle exclusively “repugnant.”
The lower reaches of the Queensland Channel Country are home to the nation’s premier cattle-fattening country, while some of the northern parts have historically been home to the largest and most successful sheep runs in the country.
Wavell Douglas, a 65-year-old primary producer who runs a mixed farming enterprise on the northern reaches of the Diamantina River, is set in his ways.
“You know, people in the cattle industry often like to tell you a sheep is a stupid animal. By and large, that’s an accurate sentiment. But what they don’t tell you is that your average bovine is often smarter than the human trying to chase it up a race,” he said before pausing to laugh himself.
“Cattle are comparatively a set-and-forget animal. You get them off the truck weaned from some wholesale breeder in the Territory or FNQ. Sit on a drum with your fat gut hanging over your belt buckle while some useless jackaroo slips a ring on and dehorns it. Earmark it and letter [sic] go. Then you walk them out, maybe hold them on water, work them a bit with your horse. Or just swing the gates and shoo them down the lane then wonder why they’re so hard to block and walk in a few months’ time when you bring them back to juice up to the eyes with Compudose or whatever they use these days. It’s lazy and stupid farming.”
Wavell cleared his throat and asked if The Advocate was still on the line.
“Right,” he continued.
“Whereas, with a sheep farmer, they take time. Marking lambs is an art. Breeding sheep is a science. I do it all here. From conception to slaughterhouse, that’s what I do. I sit up at night around this time of year and I wonder which week in July I should be shearing them. Should I shear the ewes or should I crutch them? These are all decisions sheep farmers have to make. Then, on top of that, I sow pasture and grow cereal crops to supplement the sheep operation, and I sell my surplus if I need to. Otherwise, I keep it here. It’s just another layer, another set of skills that those stupid, lazy cattle-fattening bastards can’t do. That neighbour of mine can’t even drive my little grey Fergie. Can’t even drive a chaser bin, he can’t. I had him up in the cab of my header last year and it blew his little mind. He rides a four-wheeled motorbike. How shameful, that is. If you can’t ride an AG200 anymore, it’s time to sell up and move to Buderim,”
“They just sit on their verandah and drink cans, making more money than me.”
More to come.
