Stubborn ox

[Anonymous]

To set the scene for this story, you have to know that our property is bisected by a brook, and that on one side of the brook is the town road, the barn, the boys winter quarters, and the pasture. On the other side of the brook is our woodlot and our cabin. So the team lives on one side and works on the other. Fargo brook is about a foot deep, and maybe 10 or 15 feet across. The bridge washed away long ago, so we ford where the bridge used to be. It being winter, the brook has started to ice over, and a week or so back we went to the woods, this being the first time the boys had to break through the ice. They didn’t like it, but they did it, and we went back and forth several times that day. We went back out a few days ago and there was little ice this time, but having seen the teams discomfort I broke it up with my boots. We yoked up, hitched to the arch, and went on down to the ford. They walked right down to the stream and right at the last moment my nigh steer balked. Now once he had decided he wasn’t going across, the off steer decided to go right along with him. I tried every trick I knew, and they weren’t having a bit of it. We turned around, walked back up the hill, calmed down, and tried again three times, and they would not go. Now at this point I was glad that my wife wasn’t there to see me because I was livid. I was so mad I raised the temperature around me thirty degrees and I swore a blue streak. I have put so much time and work into this pair, and if they wouldn’t cross the river I was just about ready to get the shotgun and start cranking out hamburger. To incense me further, the next day I was planning to buy hay for a good part of the winter, and if the team wouldn’t go to work, I damn sure wasn’t going to feed them. Well, in the end, although an ox with it’s mind made up is pretty darn stubborn, I will say that they have nothing on a Jenness boy; and so I left them where they were and went to get the come-along. I hitched it from their yoke to a tree across the river, and crank by victorious crank, pulled them right into the river. Caitlin showed up just then and she said she was sorry that she did not have the camera, as the team was about as far into the downward dog yoga position as cattle could go. We went back and forth across the brook twice that day, and several more times the next, and all that with nary a complaint. I guess the moral of the story is that turning a 6 foot goad into a 2 foot one is a cruel and stupid way to treat two fine steers, and using your brain will leave us all a little better.
Merry Christmas

[Robin]

My oxen “smell” for ice and are very cautious about stepping on it. They will aviod it anyway possible. This may be your problem. They are smarter than you. Treat them with respect and they will repect you….don’t beat them!
My guys do not have shoes. Do yours?

[Nat(wasIxy)]

I had almost the exact same thing when Angus was young, but big enough for me not to be able to drag anymore – he decided he would *not* go through a particular gate (I think because there was a dead crow in a water butt next to it that he could smell perhaps?). After trying brute force I tied him where he was (would NOT allow him to back away from the gate) went and got a long, long rope, wound it round a post past the gate and cranked him through. – never a problem since with that gate or any other! You just always have to win.

Well done!

[mitchmaine]

Hey miles,
Your story reminds me of years ago at Cumberland fair. They had a steer named blackjack, “the worlds biggest steer”. Don’t know about that he was just Holstein, young and big. They had him in a little tent in a fence and he looked huge in that tent. Cost a quarter to see him. They had the sign saying how big he was, the only thing I remember was he made 11,000 hamburgers. Anyway, we were there all week with animals, so I went back over when they were breaking down and there he was with no tent. Just staked to the same pipe in the ground by a nosering calmly chewing his cud. His owner was backing a truck up with a ramp just in front of him. He got out, snapped his nosering into an electric winch hooked to the headboard of the truck and pushed the button. He was talking to me like nothing was going on, and the cable shortened up taking a strain on blackjack. Blackjack stiffened up and dug in and slid a little til he got his footing and the truck started coming back, either way the two were coming together. The steer assumed your same yoga position with his nose right on the ramp. Then for a moment nothing was moving and the cable started to stretch a bit. Then finally, blackjack launched himself up into the truckbody with the biggest crash you ever heard, got to his feet and went back to calmly chewing away. The owner never batted an eye, just kept up his calm talk about the weather or something. Part of the show I guess, but I think I got my fifty cents worth. I really liked your story, cause I could see it all happening. Thanks again, and hope your new year is a good one.

mitch

[Anonymous]

Hi Robin,
I couldn’t agree with you more about respecting your team, and the boys do a wonderful job earning that respect. As for shoes, they are unshod. Although I want to learn how to make shoes and fit them to the team, it hasn’t been so icy, and when it gets that way I will leave them to their own devices, instead of trying to get some work done in conditions that are dangerous for all of us.

[mstacy]

Miles,

We have to cross a bridge over a small river (upper Waits) to reach our woodlot. My off steer frequently balks there. They are much worse heading into the woods than coming back with a load.

I usually halter the off steer for those occasions when he needs a bit of persuasion.

This behavior started rather suddenly when they were about a year old. They had already crossed the bridge at least a hundred times before that.

Matt
Topsham, VT

[Author]

Posts