Chewing The Cud

On my farm, everyone in my family has a cow that they favor among all the others. If you asked my dad, its 250C, the old mama cow that raised his favorite herd bull of all time. For my sister Courtney, its Pearl, her first show heifer that won her first purple ribbon. My sister Kaley loves Nelly, the heifer she always sang “Orphan Annie” songs in the show ring. My grandpa will never forget his favorite herd bull Dynamite, who I can vividly remember loading into the trailer and watching Grandpa wave to him as we headed out of the driveway. And for me, it’s Regina George.

Regina George was different. I knew it from the beginning. It was my senior year in high school, and I wanted one last good heifer to finish my 4-H and FFA career in style. As I scoped out potential show heifers that summer, and when I saw Regina, I knew she was the one. The deep red hair glistened in the sunlight as the doe-eyed heifer stared at me through the rustling grass of pasture. I had been watching this heifer since she was born, knowing that she would be my next show heifer.

I waited patiently for weaning time, knowing that I would soon be able to bond with my Regina George. After sorting the calves into the barn, the air was filled with anticipation as my dad and I gently placed the halters on the calves for the first time. Quickly, the calves learned to trust us, and we became friends.

My sisters and I worked from early November until late September on our show calves—leading, washing, combing, and walking them to ensure competitiveness in the show ring. The daily routine of preparing the calves for show day woke us up before the crack of dawn and kept us late until the crickets started to chirp. It was in these long hours outside that we were closest to nature, to the livestock, and to each other.

Courtney, Kaley, and I loved our calves that summer, and it was Regina George that captured our hearts. She was so sweet to everyone, and she wanted to be everyone’s friends. That is, until the showing began. Regina George was on a roll that summer. She won championship after championship, show after show, and trophy after trophy. I beamed with pride about my favorite show heifer. I was impatient for each show to come to see how Regina would do once again.

There was only one problem. Regina George didn’t like the show ring. Unlike other show calves that patiently chew their cud and lead nicely behind their owners, Regina George had a mind of her own. She dreamed of the pasture and of freedom. She didn’t behave, and I often left the show ring hurt after she would step on my foot or butt me against a wall. Sometimes, I would cry about her attitude. My dad pointed out that her attitude was just like mine, so I tried to be happy around my cantankerous female heifer.

To me, Regina George represents our love-hate relationship for agriculture. I loved winning and showing a heifer I could be proud of. I hated the pain, the tears, and the patience it took to continue to show her even when she was at her worst behavior. Likewise, we often focus on the trials of agriculture—the cost of corn, the price of land, or the bad news in the media. It’s important to remember the reasons we are involved in agriculture. There is nothing better than raising your own seed stock, watching them grow, and reaping the rewards of another year in livestock production. Every time life throws challenges, never forget the passion and heart you put into your career in production agriculture.