Love waking up to the smell of a good cow fart in the morning. Like most farmers, I’ve grown accustomed to the smell of animals. Damp animals, dusty animals, animals in heat, you name it, I’ve smelled it. Yet, I was slow on the uptake: see, it was only two years ago last month that I discovered cow patties. Cow farts, well, we’ll get back to that, sure enough. I’ve been stepping in patties all my life: with my boots on, dress shoes, sandals, and of course, barefoot with that fresh warm pattie just slithering up between my toes. But I never took the time to really understand them. Never took the time to study em up close and all. You know, not just the crispy sun dried ones, but be brave man, stick your arm out and catch a fresh one. Toasty. Now that’s up close and personal. Used the field ones as Frisbees, fire starters, and even that so called Modern Art. Yes-ah. Hung some up on my wall. Painted a few of em. Liked the red and blue one best, (stay away from yellow!).

Point is, you can see something all your life, yet never really see it. Cow patties saved my farm. The taxman was beating on my door and I needed an answer. Turns out it was right underfoot. First I use to gather em up and sell them as organic fire starters at the health food store. Then there was my Modern Art period. Might get back into that someday. Then I discovered the big bucks: eBay. Hoo-boy! Genuine organic, sun dried cow patties for only $4.99 plus shipping ( buy three and get free shipping). Had to buy more cows. Neighbors thought I was nuts, asking if they had any patties they could spare, but shoot, most folks just burn em up for heat. Such a shame.

Now I have a nice little pattie business plopping along and I got to thinking. Cows fart. A lot. There had to be money in there somehow. Talked to some of them college folks and I learned more than a gay man in choir. Halleluiah! Those farts will burn. Just like when we was boys, my brothers and I would take turns lying on the floor and lighting our farts. We’d try to light a candle about three feet away. Damn, though, Leo, my eldest and gassiest, had one backfire and it blew him into smithereens, Bless His Heart.

The college men said the gas of a dozen cows, from just one day, would heat a small house. They said it was changing our atmosphere and making this so-called climate change happen even faster than they thought. Course, who know what they thought! As a businessman I’m obligated to save the environment, no matter how much money I may make. They said cow farts couldn’t be captured. Humprh. They didn’t know Yankee ingenuity when it was wafting up their nose.

Soon as I got back to the barn, I got to thinking. Sam, said I, you’ve got almost a thousand head of cattle, that’s a mighty lot of farts. The first rig I made was like this: A 50 gallon lightweight barrel was strapped to a few of the cows backs, then I ran a hose up their rear and duct taped it into place. Just didn’t seem to work. My second idea was to use my milking machine apparatus and hook the cows up to that while they ate. Caused all sorts of problems with the milk, no matter how I flushed the lines out. But now I’m onto something. Balloons. Pure genius! I went and got me some military surplus weather balloons and have breakaway straps attached to each cow. As the cow farts, the gas goes right into the balloon. If a pattie sneaks in, all the better: now I don’t have to go scoop it up. So the balloon fills up and the straps break off, allowing the balloon to get real full. At that point I go out into the field and unplug the cow and bring the gas back to the barn. I always think of Leo and know better than to smoke around them balloons, so I took up chew.

First I tried to sell the gas to the propane company, but they wouldn’t let me finish my talk. Exxon won’t return my calls. Really thought Al Gore would. As a last resort I bought a generator that runs on gas. Fart gas. Now I take the balloons and run the generator and sell electricity to the power company. Bright idea! Biggest problem is some of the lighter cows catch a breeze and end up in the next county. Had to brand all my balloons, but heavier cowbells seams to have fixed that.

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