Oxen stories

my guess is that horses are more superficially appealing to people, they are more openly affectionate and eye catching, while oxen have all that undeserved bad par too. and could it be that, at least in america, people who worked oxen were generally poorer than those working horses, so they had less education and tendency to write books not all because they had to work to feed themselves and pay the bills…

as for general literature, it is supposed to be appealing to the broad public. as both a writer and a publisher you have to get people tpo read the story, and they’re more likely to pick up “Black beauty” than “The winter of Rod and Buck” now we all know how little girls want horses etc. that’s hoe the public oppinion on an animal is shaped. horses also tend to look more pleasing to the public, whit their long manes and tails, their expressionful eyes, and their overall athletic (= running about, plot) nature… just my opp.

i plan to translate a newspaper story about a man who had oxen some time soon, ideally for Christmas, as it’s called the Christmas story, so…

@bivol 11989 wrote:

my guess is that horses are more superficially appealing to people, they are more openly affectionate and eye catching, while oxen have all that undeserved bad par too. and could it be that, at least in america, people who worked oxen were generally poorer than those working horses, so they had less education and tendency to write books not all because they had to work to feed themselves and pay the bills…

yes I agree – in this country we have ‘the class system’ and horses are seen as a ‘posh’ thing – glamourous, expensive, pretty etc and cows are smelly and stupid and even dangerous 🙁

I’m working on a novel for teenagers which features oxen 😀

My theory is that oxen were so common that people did not think to mention them much, and then in the nineteen-teens to nineteen fifties they were the memories of the older generation and so the focus of much anecdotal history and recreations, then after that interest has dwindled.

It’s like how if today you went on a trip in your SUV, you would write about the interesting sights and activities and people you encounter, but you wouldn’t bother to write about your car, what color, what kind of gas you put in it or how you rotated the tires or when you changed the oil, because that is everyday mundane stuff that everybody “knows about.” Maybe if you had a memorable accident or major breakdown that affected your actual trip, you might mention something about the car, but otherwise the car is just a tool taken for granted. My theory is that oxen were a common tool taken for granted. In pioneer writings, which I have studied for mentions of oxen, they are mentioned usually only in some uncommon or dramatic occurrence, like the team falling through the ice on Lake Erie as pioneers came from Buffalo, NY on the frozen lakeshore because the dense woods were too muddy during the rest of the year.

This scant supply of ox stories, compared to the profuse gushing romantic sentimental flow of horse stories, adds to their preciousness to me, and to the image of the ox as humble and unassuming, overlooked and under appreciated.

The ox stories are there, but not easily found. I think Bivol is on the right track about the kind of people who did and now do use oxen, that by nature and circumstance ox people are less often than horse people the story-writing type.

One delightful exception to the unmentioned oxen, is Ezra Meeker’s account of his emigration on the Oregon Trail as a young man in 1852, and his retracing of the trip as an old man in 1906. He writes a lot about his oxen. I cried reading about when Twist died. Read the book Ox Team Days on the Oregon Trail.

vicki thanks so much for these book recommendations! I love ‘in praise of oxen’ the photos are wonderful!

hi everyone!

here are a few links on google books i think you could find interesting:

http://books.google.com/books?id=FE2N0aUh0TQC&pg=PA90&dq=training+oxen#v=onepage&q=training%20oxen&f=false

i’ll get on translating that story after my upcoming university obligations are over.

i’ll just write a short story about an ox and his owner.

this is not a happy story, but i think it is worth telling.

this is a recent and true story about a boskarin ox and his owner. i had watched a documentary about these oxen, and in the beggining an older fellow was tellinmg his story.
he was a rather thin, sunburned man of lively and polite manner, who had spent his life tilling the land he had owned in the istrian countryside, an inner hilly region of the peninsula.

was telling about oxen and what they meant to him and histrians. the oxen had the same almost cultic status in histria as they had in maine an nova scotia. they were indespensable because of the soil condition and hilly terrain. the histrian ox was selected for millenia especially for work; for his strenght, longetivity, stamina and temperament. the bulls were tought to work, and only those who possessed good working qualities were allowed to mate.

anyway, this older man had boskarin oxen for hobby and some work, as they are held today by a few enthusiasts. one day he decided his ox was too old and decided to have him slaughtered for meat.

because of the transportation, he decided to have his ox slaughtered in his friend’s slaughterhouse, who met all necessary requirements. his ox was huge, and so when they tried to use a stun gun on him, it only bled his forehead. his friend went to get a bigger one, and they fired it in the forehead. the owner was standing on the entrance, and when they fired it, but the ox fell on his forelegs, he knelt, he didn’t fall over, and he looked behind, to the door, where his master was standing,as to say (as the man was telling this, his voice broke):”why did you do this? why did you have me killed? i trusted you, and you killed me! how could you?” this all was said in a glance, the huge ox fell aside, and the butchers were preparing to start their trade.
the man started crying like a little child and went straight home. this old man was crying just recalling this, too.

for a week he couldn’t help himself, and then his wife asked him:” why are you crying that much about an ox? you’re a man, for Heaven’s sake!” “I know” he said, “but I can’t help myself.” this old man knew his ox for at least a decade, so i believe him when he said he understood what his ox told him with a glance before he died.

after this story the documentary moved on, but it had left a deep mark on me.
honestly i never quite got to write this story here, maybe because it could provoke a so called bianco-check for cattle emotions, where they don’t exist, too. but now i understand my worries were unfounded as most of you have working cattle and know them best. there are oxen that are emotional, and others that aren’t.

but this story shows cattle can be, with proper handling and temperament, can be every bit as affectionate as horses, and share a deep bond with their humans.

Oh gosh bivol I have tears in my eyes- I can just imagine it 🙁

IMO, my oxen are way more affectionate than 95% of all horses I’ve worked with – I’ve worked with, it must be, near 200 horses and most had a very aloof kind of temperament. Whereas, my cattle are genuinely curious about people and seem to love to spend time with me, they love physical contact more too, I guess because they groom each other by licking for a long time, whereas horses just nibble shoulders. I can rub mine all over for hours and they lap it up.

Yesterday I was picking berries with my partner in the herd’s field – eventually Angus came over and hung around watching patiently so I just had to go have a ‘grooming’ session with him 😀 I think cattle are slightly less expressive than horses – less noise and the ears going back etc – which makes it hard for humans to understand/relate to them. I can ‘read’ Ang pretty well now though.