Sunday, I went to the state fair. The last time I remember visiting here was with a young Madison, and we watched the birth of an animal. (If I was working harder at my NY resolutions, I might know the date, time, and animal, but ten chores in a year are going slowly.) The other memory I have was the fear that she'd wander off or get snatched by someone in the crowd.
This visit was quite different. First, I accompanied a participant, which meant I was behind the scenes. Second, I was not responsible for any children, and lastly, it was not scorching hot as I recall from my first trip.
SueG's daughter, Sydney, the local FFA chapter president, showed a heifer. I went to cheer her on. Which I learned later was a no-no--zero shouting or cheering. They really could've used me to liven things up a bit. The announcers were mumblers and offered zero entertainment. The south does not know exciting rodeo or 4H events.
We left at dawn. Before the event, the two participating students needed to bathe and groom Salem and Bambi, and with temperatures in the early fifties, it was quite the chilly shower. Poor Bambi shivered through the entire experience, making me wish I could knit her a sweater. Or buy one at the craft exhibit.
Once the heifers were fed and watered, we gained entry before the gates opened to the public, and we wandered about smelling fried food and visiting the other barns housing different animals. I spoke to many noisy critters and took excellent photos with my new iPhone. We had a large group of family and friends, and we consumed corn dogs, steak bites, chicken tenders, fries, pretzels, glazed donuts, peanut butter fudge, kettle corn, spicy nuts, pork rinds, iced tea, pineapple mango drinks, root beers, teas, and iced coffees. Somehow we did not get elephant ears or funnel cakes.
I didn't start eating right away and wandered alone, taking in all the sights and smells until I suddenly spotted a giraffe in a large tent erected between two food vendors.
A giraffe???
The tent also housed llamas, goats, miniature horses, and two zebras, but the majority of the tent, running from one end to the other, was a raised pen for the giraffe. Two ladies sold a plastic sandwich bag of cut carrots to feed the zoo animals, and in the time I spent fascinated by a giraffe at a fair, the guy probably downed fifty carrots. At one point, he left the front of his pen and mosied to the rear. I thought for sure he was going to puke, but apparently, all he needed was a moment of quiet.
He took a few deep breaths, centered himself, and wandered back to the front where his adoring public awaited with their bags of chopped carrots. If you were tall enough, you got a quick touch of his face before he pulled back with the carrot. I could've stayed all day watching the guy. Or maybe it was a girl. I did not obtain that information.
But, alas, my friends caroled me, and we headed back to the cattle barn. Salem and Bambi shared an area with a bred heifer from the Gainesville area, two heifers from a middle school in Lake City, and another heifer of who we weren't privy to her information.
We had chairs among the tackle, hay, feed, and water station on the open end of the stall. That put us across from the public walkway where visitors could also stare at us if they chose. The barn was gigantic, housing more heifers than I could count. They surrounded us. Kids and owners walked them past us on their way to the bathing station, arena, or wherever, and occasionally they'd have to stop if others were in the way. This made me quite nervous. Not only were these animals HUGE, but they didn't care where they were when it came time to poop or pee. I wore my phone out Googling cattle information, starting with "do cows kick?"
The answer is yes, both to the side and the rear, and they do so when frightened or nervous, especially if one is in their blind spot areas.
I opted to stand most of the time as this allowed me to get the hell out of the way.
Eventually, we made our way to the arena for the show, where I did not cheer. I wondered whether a participant got docked points if someone cheered, and I suggested we applaud her opponents, but no one took me seriously.
Salem was not as agreeable as he'd been the day before in his event. He began the show following nicely, but then he said the hell with this and tried desperately to head back to the barn. He kept pressing his head into Sydney's side and protested with several loud moos, but Sydney kept her head and practiced what she'd learned in the last two months of caring for this leased heifer. She took fourth place out of thirteen young heifers. The judge's comments were about wishing Salem's ribs stuck out more, and we took that to mean Salem was fat.
Back to the barn, we trooped. Salem put up quite the fuss in the stall, objecting loudly to picture taking, pats, and nearness of humans. I Googled mooing. Cattle moo when:
- They are searching for their friends
- They want to make a baby
- Have lost their mother or their calf
- They are hungry or need to be milked
- They are stressed
Since our little heifer was too young to know about sex, I discounted all but the last one. I left her alone.
The kids went off to enjoy the fair, and my friend and I sat with the heifers. We left once to get food and tour some exhibits, but most of our time was spent among the cattle, and we did our best to look like we knew what was what as the public strolled by.
The other participants/owners enjoyed the fair, and we were worried some about the pregnant heifer (bred heifer) not having water. She was a hoot. I spent a lot of time chatting with her since she was the closest to me. She pushed her food bowl under the fence, and when one of the kids pushed it back, she waited until he'd turned his back, and she pushed it out again. She was my kind of gal.
Sydney told us they weren't allowed to attend to the other animals, so we had to suffer as Nala (as I later learned her name) did, although we did discuss slipping her some water.
I lamented that our two heifers didn't have printed information displayed on the fence like the middle school heifers, and I suggested hanging their ribbons. The two girls decided it was too much effort, and while Salem and Bambi were closer to the public walkway and adored first, the two middle school heifers, who had their four ribbons proudly displayed next to their lamented information, received the "oohs" and "aahs."
SueG: "Next year, we will be better prepared."
Bambi, who placed eleventh in her division, took a nap. The two middle school heifers joined her. Salem chilled after a while and happily posed for photos and allowed some head patting before she too lay down to nap.
As we sat, questions arose, and I continued Googling the answers. I now have a lot of knowledge concerning cattle, starting with that. They aren't cows; they are cattle. A cow is a female bovine who has given birth to at least one calf. We learned all the terms. When Bambi began licking the fence, I investigated that. Cattle do that out of boredom. We were learning a wealth of information.
The kids returned to feed their heifers one last time. The school leased the two animals for two months, and they were to return to their dairy farm on Monday. While they were doing this, I talked to Nala, and SueG watched the two middle school heifers who'd suddenly stood up. The heifer on the outside looked around and then leaned up and pulled down the white show ribbon. She then proceeded to eat the two trailing ribbons, spitting out the rosette. Heifer #2 then picked up the rosette and started munching. By now, I'd been alerted. We shouted for Sydney, and she rescued what was left. Heifer #1 enjoyed her meal so much she attempted to pull down another ribbon and the lamented information sheet, and we shouted and clapped our hands until she stopped misbehaving.
SueG: "Good thing we didn't hang our ribbons."
Me: "Please. Our heifers are smarter than these two."
I Googled "heifer eats award ribbon." It was the only piece of information for which Google had no answer. I worried for half an hour until Nala's owner appeared, and then I quizzed her. She said the owners should look for it to pass, and if it didn't, they'd need to see a vet.
I shall title this blog entry something helpful now in case someone like me is searching for this information. Not that I can speak for the results, but let's go with the aforementioned information. Nala's owner was quite impressed with what information we'd picked up in our barn time.
Before we left, the middle school kids returned, and we tattled on their heifer. They were nonplussed. Hmph!
Before dusk, we said our goodbyes to the heifers and the fair and headed home. I had shavings and hay everywhere, and my dog refused to allow me into the house until he'd sniffed every scent on my shoes and pants. I assured him I was not going to begin raising heifers.
But I'm already looking forward to next year's fair!
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