Billy is a good, hard-working, country kid who loves to show cattle. He’s smart as a whip, too, which made me just want to sit back and enjoy the debate five years ago when he was stalled across the aisle from us at the local fair.
PETA was on the grounds, protesting the exhibition of livestock on the basis that it was “cruel, insensitive and unnatural” to tie these animals up all day long. I saw the PETA lady approach Billy and start badgering him about how wrong this was. Billy was up to the task.
“Ma’am,” Billy began politely, “This bull weighs 2,100 pounds and I weigh 140, soaking wet. If this bull doesn’t want to go with me to the wash rack where I rinse him with cool water twice daily, believe me he doesn’t have to.” The youngster was just getting started.
“And, if he doesn’t like the industrial strength fan blowing a cool mist of water on him all day long, he could just get up and leave. Don’t think that little nylon halter he’s wearing means anything if he wants to get up and either break it or pull that little, old, rusty, eye-bolt out of the wood.” The lady stepped back a couple of steps from the bull after hearing that.
“If that bull doesn’t like the grain, water, and hay that I carry to him every couple of hours and doesn’t appreciate the fact that he’s lying on fresh, clean wood chips and I scoop up his waste every time he poops, he’s big enough to leave anytime he wants.”
About this time, the bull stood up, towering in size over both Billy and the animal-rights lady. Billy went and untied the massive beast and turned him toward the frightened young lady. “You see, Ma’am, the bull likes it here instead of outside where it’s near a hundred degrees today and his friends back home are battling face flies, ticks, mosquitoes and varmints. If he didn’t like me, or you, he could just snap us like a dry twig and there would be absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop him.” The bull took one step toward the woman (she didn’t see Billy tug on the lead rope) when she turned and hurried back to the larger group demonstrating at the main gate, far away from the “mistreated” animals.
What the well-intentioned, but misguided animal-rights bunch needs to realize is that show animals live the life of royalty when they’re “on the road” and most of them truly enjoy it.
I just heard from an old friend who had gone out east to pick up an aging purebred bull that had been shown for two years when he was a calf. The bull absolutely loved to be hauled. He made the trip across half the country to his new home in the Midwest without making a move in the trailer. The previous owner had warned my friend that the bull was as gentle as a puppy, but if he didn’t like the pasture or pen provided to him, no fence would keep him in. He went on to add that once he found an enclosure in which he was comfortable, you wouldn’t even need a fence. He was content.
My friend delivered him to the buyer and unloaded the bull. He paced the all-steel corral (six bars of 1 1/4 inch steel pipe) and my friend was fearful that he would escape, but thought how could he get out of this pen. It was late, so my friend spent the night in the home of the new owner before starting back to Missouri the next day. Arising the next morning, they discovered that the corral was missing a substantial portion of bars and the old bull was gone.
They jumped in the new owner’s truck and drove two miles either direction to find neither hide nor hair of the bull. As they pulled back in the driveway, my friend noticed he had left the end gate of his trailer open and low and behold, there in the open trailer was the old bull lying down and chewing his cud. He wanted to ride again, so they obliged by hauling him into town while they got coffee. When they returned, the old bull was unloaded into another pen where, this time, he was as content as a hog in mud, or similarly, an animal rights activist wallowing in self-admiration.
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and a former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry about his books or to arrange speaking engagements, you may contact him by calling 1-866-532-1960 or visiting www.ozarksfn.com and clicking on 'Contact Us.'
