As a senior in the Bellisario College of Communications, I was part of a team tasked with creating a podcast about agriculture in the state. Throughout the year, we traveled to the PA Farm Show, the Youth Livestock Expo, and family farms. I watched for hours as people showed their beef cattle, pigs, goats, and sheep. Let’s just say these kids practice as much as our football team does—early mornings for a few hours, in the evening after school, and on weekends. I wanted to understand what went into working with an animal and walking it out with grace in front of hundreds of people.
A couple of weeks into my final semester, my friend Ally sent me a flyer from the Dairy Science Club: “98th Annual Dairy Exposition. No experience needed! All majors welcome!” I come from dairy farmers on both sides of my family, and my mom was big into showing cows. I texted Ally back with an enthusiastic “YES!”
Five weeks before the competition, we arrived at the dairy barns to pick our calf. As I walked around the calf pen, one would reach her head out as far as she could just to lick anyone walking by. She was taller and chubbier than the other heifers. She sure seemed friendly. Maybe friendly is good when trying to teach them to walk, I thought—a hunch that would prove false.
I named her after my grandma, Barbara Jean. From our first practice, this Barbara Jean was known for two things: her unusual name, and her proclivity to throw tantrums when she had a lead on. She tried to run away, rammed her head into me, went up on her back legs, and then flailed on the ground. She did not want to walk.
After the first week—after lots of dramatic falls, moos, and the occasional bite to my arm or legs—I had Barbara Jean walking back and forth in the pen. The dairy club students gave her a made-up “most improved” award. I worked with her for two hours each day, about three days a week. She became much calmer, but she still would try to see who was boss by pulling the opposite way we were walking.
The day of the expo, competitors had to be at the show barn by 5 a.m. To look the part, Ally and I wore white pants and a white shirt. (That’s what real dairy showmen wear.) Barbara Jean and I took some warmup walks, just to get out some jitters. That was more for me than her: My family was in the audience, including my grandma, the real Barbara Jean.
The cow and I walked out into the ring and did our thing. I walked backward, making eye contact with the judge, then stopped and made sure my cow looked as perfect as she could: head up, tail down, front legs parallel, back legs staggered.
Looking back on my college days, it was one of my favorite experiences. And first place felt pretty good, too … in the amateur division. I hope Barbara Jean is doing well.
Cade Miller is an admissions counselor at Shepherd University, where he is also pursuing a master’s degree in higher education. He lives in Inwood, W.Va.
