Beef Jerky

Last weekend I had Zeus and Cassius tied at the hitching post, waiting to be yoked up.  I generally take their bows out of the yoke and throw them onto their necks before bringing out the beam.  This means, though, that I have to place the pins and spacers on top of each hitching post while I go back in the barn.

The problem is that Zeus is a toddler.  An eight year-old toddler.  An eight year-old, 2000 pound toddler.  He loves to knock the pin and spacers off onto the ground.

Emerging from the barn carrying the beam, I noticed Zeus chewing intently and smacking his tongue.  I immediately scanned the ground and noticed the wooden spacer and, more importantly, the pin on the ground.  Thinking I had that base covered, I set about feeling around in his mouth for a foreign object- no easy task with the chewing going on.  

Two or three failed attempts later, I started to assume that he was in fact chewing his cud and things were fine.  Then I noticed he was clearly working on an object.  

Back into his mouth went my hand, only to return with a well-chewed leather spacer, looking for all the world like black beef jerky.

Either that or Zeus was acting as if he was a 'jerky" beef animal.  You choose.  Either way, keep your eyes on the toddlers and make sure they have a magnet in them.  You never know what they'll pick up.

Edward Scissorhands

In the 1990 film of the same name, Johnny Depp's title character is able to deftly use both hands to accomplish tasks with efficiency.

A pair of brushes atop the hitching post.

In working cattle, a critical-but-routine task is to brush the animals at the hitching post.  The animals are calmed by the act of brushing, they appreciate the routine, and they are much easier to catch and halter when they know the hitching post will have a pleasant activity to start.

Side note:  Animals that run off due to fear often run to the hitching post.  In the classical conditioning language of psychologists, the neutral stimulus of a hitching post has come to be associated with the pleasant unconditioned stimulus of brushing.  When animals are trailered to a location and yoked at the trailer, it takes on that same "magical" quality for the animals as a safe haven.

Anyway, to speed up the brushing, I often use a pair of brushes, one in each hand.  That way, I can cover twice as much coat at once.  With a full-grown ox, they seem to have about an acre of coat that needs brushing.  The animals like the extra attention and it speeds us along. 

Not Exactly NASCAR

Without much time to work oxen these days, necessity has helped birth efficiency.  One of the time savers I tried the other day may just make its way into the "normal" work routine:  the pit-stop nigh ox swap.

Having three oxen means I try to get all three in a yoke whenever they are out so they all stay as sharp as I can keep them (see: the aforementioned lack of time).  Cassius is the best off-ox, so he usually works a shift with both Brutus and Zeus.

Making the switch used to involve unyoking Cassius in most cases.  But the last few times we've switched, I've just dropped the nigh side of the yoke on the ground while I swap Brutus and Zeus from the "other" hitching post (just a fence post where one animal is tied while waiting to work).  Then I just walk Brutus up and have him step under the yoke while I lift it.

Two or three times of this and he seems to have the routine down.  And I just saved a couple minutes, plus the effort of lifting the yoke twice.

It's not a NASCAR pit stop, but it'll do.

How's your Team?

When I see folks in the fall, they often ask, "How's your team?"

It's important to remember how I know them so I can answer correctly based on the question they're asking.  If they're oxen people I have to, sheepishly, tell them that they're not getting much work these days.  If they're folks from the Centreville community, we talk cross country and I tell them about that team.

This fall is my 20th season coaching runners in the same school (Centreville High School in St. Joseph County, MI) and as happens every fall, the days aren't long enough to manage getting teaching, coaching, a little housework, homework, family time, church choir, AND oxen driving.

But that's the nice thing about oxen.  They remember.  They stay relatively calm without daily work.

All three of the boys get handled every day with feedings and in moving from pasture to dry lot, etc., so they stay pretty sharp, if not really ready for hard work.

Yesterday, on my first day without something scheduled in September (the 30th!), I managed to have the oxen out for about 3 hours.  We spent most of our time moving equipment around the yard to make lawn mowing easier.

Zeus and Cassius went first and they were well-behaved-if-not-exactly-willing.  Then I swapped out Zeus for Brutus in the nigh position and we worked for about 45 minutes without me having to say anything to them, with one exception, but that's a tale for another time.

How's your team?