It had to be at least 135 degrees out as we were moving into California State Fair. Okay so maybe it was only 109 but after dragging a chute, end panels, tack boxes, fans, and all of the other paraphernalia needed to show cattle out of the inferno that was the stock trailer, it sure felt like it.
Stock Show Heat Index
I think we should call it a Stock Show Index. You know, like a regular heat index, but an equation that considers temperature inside the trailer multiplied by the amount of gear you drag out of the trailer and divided by the amount of dirt you manage to get all over you from the equipment that you just cleaned before you left your house. From that, you get the Stock Show Index.
Did I mention that California State Fair used to require you to bed on straw? Straw. You know, that bedding used to keep livestock warm in ice storms? The bedding that’s used in weather that freezes newborn calves to the ground?
Well, that’s what Californians are forced to use in the Valley…in the Summer. Not because we have a lack of access to shavings, just because it’s the rules. At any rate, with a solid sheen of sweat covering every exposed inch of us, we proceeded to make beds…with straw.
Itchy
Not only is straw a great insulator, but it also has little tiny bits of itchy chaff that take flight as you are shaking it out to make the bed. When you are already damp all over from sweating from the Stock Show Index heat, those little pieces of chaff manage to land all over your arms and neck in an annoying way that only straw in the summer can do.
I’ve always admired the dairy cattle fitters with their ability to make perfect edges out of very imperfect bedding.
Feeding Time
After shaking, packing, and wetting the straw, we finally brought the cattle into the beds. The rest of the day went off without a hitch, right up to feeding time. After watering my Hereford heifer, I walked around the end of the bed and into the jungle called the feed alley.
It is amazing that such a small area can turn into a disaster in two hours flat if you allow kids to be involved. I looked in front of my heifer where the feed should be…but there was not any feed.
Now, I remembered mixing my feed, sacking it, and packing my scoop in the bag. But, I did not have any clear recollection of putting said feed into the trailer. Surely I did though, right?
I need a packing list
I mean I’ve forgotten hoses and nozzles, bushes, and glue before, but did I actually forget the feed?
You know that sinking feeling when you know you’ve messed up?
That feeling makes your stomach drop like a rock and your shoulders sag as you come to the realization that you are going to have to fess up to one monster of a mess up.
So I picked up my chin, which had dropped at my foolishness, and headed toward my best friend and mentor. Apparently, there is no poker in my future because as soon as I walked up to him he said, “What?”
I sheepishly confessed, “I forgot my feed.”
The look on Darrell’s face was priceless and unforgettable. It was a strange mixture of disbelief, pity, and irritation. “How do you forget your feed?”
Obviously, a useless question because who would even know the answer to that anyway?
With a shake of his head, he looked at me and simply stated, “One day, you’ll forget your cattle.”
