The herd began pressing toward the gate the moment Stemple Creek Ranch owner Loren Poncia hopped the barbed-wire fence. All 300 snorted, snarled, grunted and mooed, pushing their flesh closer and closer to the metal barrier. Poncia, with an iPhone to his ear and cowboy boots on his feet, unwound a chain and flung open the gate. Through it they stormed, away from the chomped-down remnants of their last few meals and toward a verdant, dew-glistening field of rye and clover.
Then, only the sounds of munching.
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