The danger of dynamite was well-known to the men who used the explosives in their search for minerals in the remote mountains of Wyoming. One cow discovered just how dangerous these sticks are after dining on them for lunch.
It was 1907 and the town of Birdseye, Wyoming, had been founded on a steep pass amid a copper and gold rush. This fledging town was just a few miles north of Shoshoni and far from the modern conveniences of the day.
More than 500 claims had been made, and more than 2,000 men flooded the region. Even Wyoming Gov. Bryant Brooks took notice and said it was going to be one of the greatest gold rushes the century had ever seen.
Not all these entrepreneurs were miners, either.
Within one season, town lots were being sold and homes built in Birdseye. The town boasted a boarding house, hotels, saloons, restaurant, blacksmith shop, livery stable, assay office and a newspaper.
Veteran Wyoming newspaperman Leslie Davidson had moved his entire printing press and family to remote Birdseye. He maintained a credible newspaper, the Copper Mountain Miner, and had a reputation throughout Wyoming as a trustworthy journalist.
Davidson was determined not to print rumors or tall tales, so when an incredible story was told to him from the Little Gypsy claim, he was hesitant to share the strange tale of miners and an exploding cow.
Explosion
It was September 1907 when two well-respected miners came into Birdseye from the east end of Copper Mountain. Billy Osborn and Shell Felt had been doing assessment work on the Little Gypsy claim and Felt came into the newspaper office to share a tale of calamity that, at first, Davidson thought was a joke.
However, Felt had a reputation as a straight talker and so Davidson decided to let his readers decided for themselves if it was truth or fiction.
Prospector Ketchum had allowed his cow to roam free in the rolling red hills of Copper Mountain while he went about his own mining work. Neither Osborn or Felt thought much about the wandering cow, until it was too late.
“We were working away in the tunnel,” Felt said. “Billy drilling and I mucking. When I came out with a carload of muck I saw the last of our nineteen sticks of powder disappearing down the throat of Ketchum’s cow!”
Felt picked up a rock and threw it at her.
Instantly, there was a terrible explosion and the air was filled with tiny pieces of cow.
Ketchum’s beloved bovine had gone across the divide.
“What hurts is that we had to pay $45 for the cow,” Felt said.
Mr. Ketchum had kindly knocked off $5 for the powder that the cow ate.
Felt was well-known for his hearty laugh as well as his truthfulness, so was this all a joke or was there truth behind his story?
Other Exploding Beasts
In the early days of the dynamite sticks, there are more than 100 newspaper stories of animals eating dynamite and the mishaps that followed.
Most seemed too far-fetched to be more than a tall tale; however, there were a few that were very convincing, especially when there were several witnesses.
The story of Kitty McGlory, a widow who was rounding up her herd of goats in August 1900, is one such believable story. The Wilkes-Barre Times and numerous papers in Pennsylvania reported her sad story of an exploding animal.
One of her goats had wandered off to a coal mine when it picked up a small package of dynamite and started to chew on it. Before she could intervene, tragedy struck. There was a sudden, large explosion and her goat was blown to pieces.
An investigation showed that the goat had tried to devour the cartridge, which was discharged when it was crushed in the animal’s jaws.
Another story headlined “Cow Endeavored To Eat Dynamite” comes from Missouri and is very similar to the tale told by the Wyoming miners.
A pet cow named Venus was well known in her town of Falling Springs. She gave her owners excellent milk and cream, and they spoiled her outrageously. It was a common sight to see her wandering around town, getting her exercise, so no one paid her much attention when she wandered into new territory.
The St. Louis Republic reported in December 1900 that Venus had stopped at the powder house of the East St. Louis quarry.
A workman had chased the milk cow away but, most unfortunately, Venus wandered to a blasting place. The quarrymen were finishing drilling and had laid several sticks of dynamite on a ledge for convenience in handling the high explosive.
Venus noticed the dynamite sticks and sniffed at them. The odor must have been pleasant because she happily munched at a stick.
“Goodness gracious!” explained the foreman of the quarrymen. “Venus is eating the dynamite!”
The men threw rocks at the naughty cow, but instead of dropping the explosive, she chewed it harder and started to run.
Venus didn’t get far before her teeth struck the percussion cap.
A terrific explosion followed. Fragments of cow and sand, rock and dirt filled the air. When the smoke died away a few fragments of bone and a curl of hair from the end of the animal’s tail was all that was left of Venus.
In nearby Idaho in 1920, the owner of a pair of cows sued his business partner after the hungry heifers ate dynamite and died. His claim was based on the other leaving the explosives out for the cows to eat it, and wanted $100 in compensation, according to the Sept. 23, 1920, edition of the Idaho County Free Press.
It wasn’t reported if he won the lawsuit.
The Copper Mountain Miner of Birdseye, Wyoming, carried a strange tale of an exploding cow. The editor was leery if it was true or not but said the source was usually trustworthy. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
The Sept. 23, 1920, issue of the Idaho County Free Press reported on two cows dying from eating dynamite. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
In Mayberry on the "Andy Griffith Show," a loaded goat caused havoc as the town tried to keep the creature from exploding after eating dynamite. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
In the comedy “F-Troop,” a goat ate dynamite and the troop thought she had exploded. Then, their mascot waltzed right back into the fort, proving to them that she had a stomach of steel. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
In 1916, the News Letter Journal reported on some bucks that broke into a company camp and ate 25 pounds of dynamite. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
More news stories of cows and goats eating dynamite and exploding. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
In Pennsylvania, a goat made statewide headlines after eating dynamite at a coal mine and exploding. (Cowboy State Daily Staff)
Comedy Gold
The most famous incident of an animal eating dynamite was featured on the “Andy Griffith Show.” The episode was aptly named the “The Loaded Goat.”
The small town of Mayberry found itself in a sticky situation when a goat named Billy chomped down an obviously delicious stick of dynamite. Everyone in town was afraid he was going to blow up if bumped.
As the goat runs around town, Sheriff Andy Taylor and Deputy Barney Fife scrambles to safely corral the explosive goat. Being Mayberry, this story is full of hilarious mishaps and it does have a much happier ending than that of Ketchum’s cow.
The goat is never bumped and does not explode.
On “F-Troop,” another early television comedy, a dynamite-eating goat was featured in the episode “The Return of Wrongo Starr.”
The troop had adopted Miss Gwendoline, the darling goat as their mascot to represent the strength and the courage of the men of F Troop.
This goat showed her courage when she ate a whole box of dynamite, sealing her fate, or so the troopers thought. The massive explosion turned out to be another accident and not an exploding goat. Miss Gwendoline was apparently able to digest the dynamite she had eaten and pranced happily back into the fort.
Just How Dangerous Was Dynamite?
Dynamite was made by combining nitroglycerin with an absorbent material like sawdust. The sticks typically would not explode without a primer, such as a blasting cap, being inserted just before use.
“It would have had to have been an awful lot of static electricity to explode like that,” electrician Tony Abstetar said.
He had trained with an explosives expert and was familiar with the danger of dynamite and explained that static electricity can be generated by just brushing your clothes.
“It has to have a blasting cap on it in order to set off the dynamite,” he said, explaining the chain of events leading to an explosion.
The blasting cap is attached to the dynamite, and then a wire goes out to whatever is going to set it off with an electrical charge. The electrical charge goes down the wire and sets off the blasting cap. The blasting cap then sets off the dynamite explosion.
Dick Howe of Thermopolis is very familiar with the dangers of dynamite and static electricity. He has seen firsthand that you don’t need much to have a stick go off, and said the cow could have exploded under the right circumstances.
In the 1960s, his brother Mike Howe found a piece of dynamite. He picked it up to throw it in the river and it blew up in his hand instead.
“He's missing three fingers from the dynamite blast,” Howe said. “Just from throwing the stick and the static electricity setting off the blasting cap.”
Reports of animals exploding from chowing down on sticks of dynamite have now for the most part become a thing of the past.
As technology advanced, Abstetar said dynamite is much more stable these days and less likely to go off from static electricity as it was at the turn of the century when headlines featured the unique diet of certain farm animals.
Contact Jackie Dorothy at jackie@cowboystatedaily.com
Jackie Dorothy can be reached at jackie@cowboystatedaily.com.
