Junior Market Livestock Shows were and still are a central el - ement of County and State Fairs. My family visits the San Di- ego County Fair each June. We visit livestock shows that bring back memories of being a nervous boy struggling to position my nervous steer to highlight his best qualities as he is examined by unsmiling judges. These judges move quickly and decisively. They soon announce their results in confident tones (“this animal has fine conformation, but he is a bit unfinished, and his central section isn’t quite as full as we’d like to see”). Their assistants briskly hand ribbons to the top placers, and the owners lead their animals from the ring as the next group enters. In the autumn of 1955 Terry and I (age 11 and 12) were “Junior Exhibitors” showing Angus steers 1 in at the Columbia County Fair in Bloomsburg and a few weeks later at the Five County Show in nearby Danville. Our steers were a bit younger than 24 months when we showed them, then watched their placid departure to fulfill their destiny – providing prime beef for human consumption. Using a modern analogy, a Steer Show could be called “DANCING WITH THE STEERS.” A skilled showman displays his well-groomed partner in the most flattering positions as the two move in smooth synchrony. But steers weigh more than 1000 lbs. at show time, and their much smaller partners (less than 100 lbs for us) must use guile and finesse to glide through the performance. Dad taught us the choreography, but we spent many hours training these semi-wild animals to join us to become smooth and graceful couples. Typical Steer Shows have multiple rounds with contestants di- vided into groups of about eight, then winnowed to a final round of about the same number. In each round the couple executes a series of compulsory and optional movements. The compulsory elements include the parade into and around the show ring and then a static pose for judging. Properly trained steers parade with his head up just behind and right of his leader then sequentially step into parallel positions in a line facing the judges. Each steer should stand motionless with head up and forward as the judge moves down the line examining each animal. The showman turns his steer’s head toward the judge when he approaches 2 . The optional steps are more subtle and used when the steer is examined closely. Each young boy or girl enters the ring carrying in his left hand a staff having a hook and prod at one end. The showman can turn toward his steer (shifting the lead rope to his left hand) and use the hook and prod to move his steer’s feet (see photograph on following page). As the judge examines his steer, an expert showman moves the feet so each part is shown to its best advantage. It is a slow-mov- ing dance where the steer is a bovine version of a female dancer 1 A steer is a neutered bull. Castration is usually done within the first week or two after birth. 2 My recent experience with horses has taught me that large animals can’t kick toward the direction their head is turned. I didn’t know this at the time, but I would have been kicked fewer times if I had.
being displayed by her male partner. Terry and I were well-trained and proficient. As the competition unfolds, the judges place the steers in order of quality (as beef providers, of course), and the higher placing steers move to the next round. In the final round the judges select the champion and other high-placing steers. In a parallel competition (“Showmanship”), the judges grade each leader on his presentation. In larger events there may be a separate final round for the highest-ranking showmen. So a good showman with a prize-winning steer might dance many times in the course of a Show.
CHAPTER TWO BROTHERS IN THE BARN Training Angus Steers
It is no easy task for an 80 lb boy to train a 1000 lb steer to perform in the show ring (see figure below). Horses like hu - mans and bond with a master like a dog. Steers do not. They are stubborn and, at best, tolerate human handling. They fight a handler until convinced they will lose. Our father knew how to win this fight, but he couldn’t do it for us. We had to persevere until the battle is won. We started training our steers in the summer of 1955. Soon, they learned to recognize our footsteps and lifted their heads because they knew food was coming. Ebony stood calm and square, chewing slowly. Zookie paced, tossing his head, testing the limits of his pen’s fence. We worked side by side most afternoons, the rhythm of chores settling into something close to comfort. Fill the water. Fork the hay. Brush their coats. Dad sometimes watched for a few minutes, saying very little. When he did speak, it was usually to correct something. Your grip is too loose. Do not rush him. Terry chased those small nods of approval. I pretended I did not care. The steers were much bigger than us months after birth and grew to more than 1000 lbs when we showed them. Training began at 12 months when we taught them to be led with a halter. They didn’t volunteer for that and tried to run when they had space. Halter-breaking these big beasts was tough! For training, Dad emptied a large cattle paddock. Cattle had covered the ground with manure and urine-soaked mud. When our steers became yearlings, we started training in that pad- dock. The first step, breaking them to a lead rope, was a dra - matic and dangerous battle of wills and muscle (sorely lacking in our small bodies). The steers outweighed us by hundreds of pounds, and we felt it every time we led them out into the pad- dock. Dad’s training rule was simple: never let go of the rope ! No matter where we were dragged across the mud and manure, and no matter if our arms felt like they would snap. We had to hold on. Only then would the steer understand he must obey the person holding the rope.
6
Powered by FlippingBook