Rural banter

Author: ERICA GOODMAN

For most people, "cow" means milk for breakfast, hamburger for lunch and a prime rib for dinner. It is not a matter of inhumanity or of heartless recognition that the average person associates cattle with food consumption. Cattle owners themselves generally appreciate a juicy steak just as much as the next guy. Yet a hobby, and sometimes a livelihood, for many farmers is showing off their prized animals to promote their own cattle's celebrity. At any given time throughout the year, one can find dairy cows at county fairs across the nation that are given star treatment. True, it is no "American Idol," but competitive dairy cattle judging is a popular pastime of thousands of Americans.

A "dairy show" is essentially a beauty pageant for cows. The animals are separated into different classes and evaluated by a professional judge. Ribbons, trophies and cash awards are given out to the animal that closest matches the dairy ideal. What dairy cattle judges look for is a "dairy" figure - straightness of back and legs, open ribs and the proper carriage of her udder. Much time and effort goes in to preparing a show animal for the big day. After numerous soapy scrub downs, haircuts and pedicures, she is ready to step into her stretch limousine - a livestock trailer - and head on down the road to spend a week sleeping in a fluffy straw bed and getting all the attention in the world. The most competitive herdsmen spend thousands of dollars on their beautiful bovines, treating them to the life of luxury all year round. They live on the road like rock stars, competing at venues throughout the country.

Like any up and coming celebrity, these lovely ladies experience at least one downfall to the job - they are often denied the companionship of a steady beau. While the one or two bulls that mingle with in a herd court average cows on the farm, the females of show quality find love, I guess you might say, more artificially. Companies, such as "Select Sires" and "Excalibar Sires of Excellence," are the sperm banks for cows. Breeders can flip through a magazine for a listing of potential suitors - with names like "Zenith," "True Grit," even "Magnum" - to find the bull whose offspring have shown the most impressive dairy quality and milk production. And when the time comes and the little vial of the chosen father has arrived in the mail, there is no romance, but just a long plastic glove and an uncomfortable situation.

I have often wondered what an outsider thinks of all the fuss put into the exhibition of dairy cattle. Should an alien happen to land his UFO or a suburbanite park his Audi outside of the judging arena on a muggy summer day, he would see human beings and their immaculate cows walking steadily around in a circle. Looking down on the peculiar scene, I'm sure they would wonder who was leading whom.