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Staff Member
Are they wild?
It is a touchy subject to raise, but let’s look at temperament in the various types of Galloway cattle- Belted or otherwise- and handling them.
Prejudices abound outside the fold, which is pretty ironic given the number of fellow farmers who happily take their lives in their hands raising ‘foreign’ breeds.
We’ve all come across it haven’t we? The knowing nods and subtle suggestions that Galloways are difficult to handle. In the Westcountry, we’re told…. ‘Us don’t want any of they bliddy things, they’m wild as ‘awks!’ That legendary rural scribe R.W.F.Poole rudely suggests that you could tell a Galloway breeder because he’d always be looking over his shoulder. To be fair to Mr Poole, some of his earliest experiences with Galloways would’ve been during his first ‘Mastership’ here on Dartmoor. There were several herds in his ‘country’ which ran almost feral across miles of peat. TB and Brucella testing were still novel concepts, ear tagging an occasional inconvenience, and cattle seldom handled.
And this irrelevant snippet takes us to the first point. By the very nature of keeping Galloways out on wild country, utilising their self-reliance and hardy constitution, they are handled less than milch cows, which see the stockman twice a day. It’s inevitable that this makes a difference.
It’s harder to identify whether the self-reliant traits we value are the result of careful breeding over the centuries, or are simply a sign of less interfering in the first place.
Certainly, if you read descriptions of the behaviour of the ‘Chillingham Wild Cattle’ you’ll recognise familiar traits, although there’s a difference between wild and nasty.
And as one old cattle man put it to me, he likes to see a cow a bit protective of her calf, because it meant she’d likely lick it clean, let it suckle, and generally look after it. Obviously, nowadays, with inspectors greatly excited about promptly attaching eartags to new calves, sometimes before their dams approve, this can be an issue. And I admit I’ve known the odd cow who’d only oblige with the aid of sedatives, a tranquiliser dart and a Taser.
But then, I also keep a herd of very quiet South Devons, and there’s even the odd one of them who’ll get fruity with a fresh calf, so it’s no good blaming Belts or Blacks.
More important than the breed is the way you talk to your cattle.
Bullock whispering
Before 2001, I was chasing headage payments and numbers, and we drove the cows from horseback. Since then, in the new world order, I’ve learned to lead them. Once trained to come when they’re called, life with hill cows is so much easier. And the value of having the yearlings away at grass ready to trot out the gate can hardly be overstated- By goodness I wish I’d learned the trick when I was a lad.
The key, however hairy and wide eyed the calves come in off the hill for weaning, is to get them quiet that first winter. Once housed, we bed up by hand rather than with a straw blower, so someone is going in amongst the beasts every day. Talking quietly to them and resting an occasional hand on them will soon start resolving behavioural issues. Avoid shouting at them, even if one kicks you –kick it back by all means, but don’t start shouting.
My late mother was a first class horsewoman, and if a youngster was giving her trouble, she’d leave it thirsty for a few hours, then come and offer it water from the bucket she held. The same is true of an especially difficult group of cattle -a little patience is a marvellous thing. (It has to be admitted, my mother had no patience whatsoever with anything on 2 legs, but that’s another matter).
Continue this state of mind once cattle are turned out. Remember to take them some sweeties most times you see them at grass. Once they’ll come to you outdoors, make them follow a little further each time for a reward. I promise you, it’ll change your life.
Like mother like daughter?
Another myth is that bovine ‘anger management’ problems are largely an inheritable trait. In fact, it is often learned behaviour, which isn’t the same thing. Either way, if a calf is raised by a wild mother, it will likely be snotty itself. But, in the latter, the cycle can be broken.
This was apparent in a mob of black Galloways heifers I bought after FMD. They’d changed hands a couple of times, and been pushed around en route, and were especially difficult to handle - as bad as I’d ever had. The first crop of calves were so wild that I killed the lot, reasoning that life is short enough without perpetuating that sort of nonsense. But the cows were performing well, and quickly ‘leared’ to the hill, so I persevered. And sure enough, as the years went on, they grew quieter. By the 3rd or 4th crop of calves, the cows had calmed down noticeably, and their heifer calves could be got very quiet. The cumulative benefit of steady handling builds over time, and the outstanding pair of Riggit cows Alison Bunning shows in the Westcountry are, unbelievably, scions from that very line. One of them is just 1 generation removed, although you would never guess looking at the loafing dopey creatures that they are.
Elven safety
I suppose we’d better have a little talk about safety when handling cattle which aren’t as quiet as they might be. I realise that some of you might be new to keeping cattle, and wanting guidance.
As a general rule, be quiet but assertive with your cattle. If they’re used to having you in amongst them, they’ll be far more obliging when you ask them nicely to go down the race, and less likely to jump the rails when you insist.
As mentioned, newly calved cows, especially of a breed closer to nature like the various Galloways, will have protective maternal instincts. I can’t instruct you how to tell when a cow is going to flip, although the flared nostrils pouring forth steam, and eyeballs out on stalks ought to be a giveaway. Other tell-tale signs might be pawing the ground or the smeared remains of a passing rambler.
Seriously –and given some of the very nasty injuries sustained over the years, it is a serious business- be aware that a newly calved cow might well suddenly become a very different beast at the drop of a hat. And that however many pies you ate over Christmas, she weighs a lot more than you do and can probably run faster to boot. Often, they might be fine immediately after parturition, but turn worse 2-3 hours later. If in doubt, leave her well alone. If you really need to get in close, keep a stick to hand, and don’t hesitate to give her a dap across the nose – apparently it releases endorphins, as well as reminding her you can bite. But, if you can’t move quicker than her, and she is giving you the warning signs, my best advice is to walk away.
Handling bulls is a different matter again, although I generally treat them no differently to a cow. The official HSE advice on the keeping of bulls is to pen them into something more akin to the elephant enclosure at the zoo, and regard them as dangerous animals. Sadly, in my own experience, very few bulls indeed deserve this treatment, and the one thing sure to make a bull nasty is to shut it away like that. Personally, I suspect that if you’re afraid of a bull, he’ll get to know it, and that’s when the problems start. And if you repeatedly have bulls become difficult, it’s not the beasts that are the problem.
We’ve had bulls from people who’re convinced they’re nasty, but set them straight with no upsets. If a bull gets pushy at the feeder, I’ll punch him on the nose. When he’s being handled in the pens, and he turns, he gets a stick smartly across his snout. If you’re raising a youngster, and as he finds his feet, discovering he has strange urges, don’t hesitate to remind him who’s in charge while he’s still manageable. (Easier when he’s 350kgs than when he’s 800kgs.)
I should say that, of the scores of bulls I’ve known and handled over the years, the Galloways- be they Belts, Riggit, Black, White or Dun- have very seldom been a problem. In fact, bulls, cows or mobs of boisterous yearlings, they’ve been quieter than most. So don’t let anyone tell you Galloways are difficult cattle to handle. It’s a state of mind.
About the author
Originally published in The Western Morning News, these articles are reproduced for the enjoyment of TFF members World-wide by kind permission of the author Anton Coaker and the WMN
Anton Coaker is a fifth generation farmer keeping suckler cows and flocks of hill sheep high on the Forest of Dartmoor and running a hardwood and mobile sawmill.
A prodigious writer and regular correspondent for The Western Morning News, NFU and The Farming Forum, Anton’s second book “The Complete Bullocks” is available from www.anton-coaker.co.uk
Anton's previous articles can be found here:
http://thefarmingforum.co.uk/index.php?threads/the-anton-coaker-western-morning-news-column.5538/
It is a touchy subject to raise, but let’s look at temperament in the various types of Galloway cattle- Belted or otherwise- and handling them.
Prejudices abound outside the fold, which is pretty ironic given the number of fellow farmers who happily take their lives in their hands raising ‘foreign’ breeds.
We’ve all come across it haven’t we? The knowing nods and subtle suggestions that Galloways are difficult to handle. In the Westcountry, we’re told…. ‘Us don’t want any of they bliddy things, they’m wild as ‘awks!’ That legendary rural scribe R.W.F.Poole rudely suggests that you could tell a Galloway breeder because he’d always be looking over his shoulder. To be fair to Mr Poole, some of his earliest experiences with Galloways would’ve been during his first ‘Mastership’ here on Dartmoor. There were several herds in his ‘country’ which ran almost feral across miles of peat. TB and Brucella testing were still novel concepts, ear tagging an occasional inconvenience, and cattle seldom handled.
And this irrelevant snippet takes us to the first point. By the very nature of keeping Galloways out on wild country, utilising their self-reliance and hardy constitution, they are handled less than milch cows, which see the stockman twice a day. It’s inevitable that this makes a difference.
It’s harder to identify whether the self-reliant traits we value are the result of careful breeding over the centuries, or are simply a sign of less interfering in the first place.
Certainly, if you read descriptions of the behaviour of the ‘Chillingham Wild Cattle’ you’ll recognise familiar traits, although there’s a difference between wild and nasty.
And as one old cattle man put it to me, he likes to see a cow a bit protective of her calf, because it meant she’d likely lick it clean, let it suckle, and generally look after it. Obviously, nowadays, with inspectors greatly excited about promptly attaching eartags to new calves, sometimes before their dams approve, this can be an issue. And I admit I’ve known the odd cow who’d only oblige with the aid of sedatives, a tranquiliser dart and a Taser.
But then, I also keep a herd of very quiet South Devons, and there’s even the odd one of them who’ll get fruity with a fresh calf, so it’s no good blaming Belts or Blacks.
More important than the breed is the way you talk to your cattle.
Bullock whispering
Before 2001, I was chasing headage payments and numbers, and we drove the cows from horseback. Since then, in the new world order, I’ve learned to lead them. Once trained to come when they’re called, life with hill cows is so much easier. And the value of having the yearlings away at grass ready to trot out the gate can hardly be overstated- By goodness I wish I’d learned the trick when I was a lad.
The key, however hairy and wide eyed the calves come in off the hill for weaning, is to get them quiet that first winter. Once housed, we bed up by hand rather than with a straw blower, so someone is going in amongst the beasts every day. Talking quietly to them and resting an occasional hand on them will soon start resolving behavioural issues. Avoid shouting at them, even if one kicks you –kick it back by all means, but don’t start shouting.
My late mother was a first class horsewoman, and if a youngster was giving her trouble, she’d leave it thirsty for a few hours, then come and offer it water from the bucket she held. The same is true of an especially difficult group of cattle -a little patience is a marvellous thing. (It has to be admitted, my mother had no patience whatsoever with anything on 2 legs, but that’s another matter).
Continue this state of mind once cattle are turned out. Remember to take them some sweeties most times you see them at grass. Once they’ll come to you outdoors, make them follow a little further each time for a reward. I promise you, it’ll change your life.
Like mother like daughter?
Another myth is that bovine ‘anger management’ problems are largely an inheritable trait. In fact, it is often learned behaviour, which isn’t the same thing. Either way, if a calf is raised by a wild mother, it will likely be snotty itself. But, in the latter, the cycle can be broken.
This was apparent in a mob of black Galloways heifers I bought after FMD. They’d changed hands a couple of times, and been pushed around en route, and were especially difficult to handle - as bad as I’d ever had. The first crop of calves were so wild that I killed the lot, reasoning that life is short enough without perpetuating that sort of nonsense. But the cows were performing well, and quickly ‘leared’ to the hill, so I persevered. And sure enough, as the years went on, they grew quieter. By the 3rd or 4th crop of calves, the cows had calmed down noticeably, and their heifer calves could be got very quiet. The cumulative benefit of steady handling builds over time, and the outstanding pair of Riggit cows Alison Bunning shows in the Westcountry are, unbelievably, scions from that very line. One of them is just 1 generation removed, although you would never guess looking at the loafing dopey creatures that they are.
Elven safety
I suppose we’d better have a little talk about safety when handling cattle which aren’t as quiet as they might be. I realise that some of you might be new to keeping cattle, and wanting guidance.
As a general rule, be quiet but assertive with your cattle. If they’re used to having you in amongst them, they’ll be far more obliging when you ask them nicely to go down the race, and less likely to jump the rails when you insist.
As mentioned, newly calved cows, especially of a breed closer to nature like the various Galloways, will have protective maternal instincts. I can’t instruct you how to tell when a cow is going to flip, although the flared nostrils pouring forth steam, and eyeballs out on stalks ought to be a giveaway. Other tell-tale signs might be pawing the ground or the smeared remains of a passing rambler.
Seriously –and given some of the very nasty injuries sustained over the years, it is a serious business- be aware that a newly calved cow might well suddenly become a very different beast at the drop of a hat. And that however many pies you ate over Christmas, she weighs a lot more than you do and can probably run faster to boot. Often, they might be fine immediately after parturition, but turn worse 2-3 hours later. If in doubt, leave her well alone. If you really need to get in close, keep a stick to hand, and don’t hesitate to give her a dap across the nose – apparently it releases endorphins, as well as reminding her you can bite. But, if you can’t move quicker than her, and she is giving you the warning signs, my best advice is to walk away.
Handling bulls is a different matter again, although I generally treat them no differently to a cow. The official HSE advice on the keeping of bulls is to pen them into something more akin to the elephant enclosure at the zoo, and regard them as dangerous animals. Sadly, in my own experience, very few bulls indeed deserve this treatment, and the one thing sure to make a bull nasty is to shut it away like that. Personally, I suspect that if you’re afraid of a bull, he’ll get to know it, and that’s when the problems start. And if you repeatedly have bulls become difficult, it’s not the beasts that are the problem.
We’ve had bulls from people who’re convinced they’re nasty, but set them straight with no upsets. If a bull gets pushy at the feeder, I’ll punch him on the nose. When he’s being handled in the pens, and he turns, he gets a stick smartly across his snout. If you’re raising a youngster, and as he finds his feet, discovering he has strange urges, don’t hesitate to remind him who’s in charge while he’s still manageable. (Easier when he’s 350kgs than when he’s 800kgs.)
I should say that, of the scores of bulls I’ve known and handled over the years, the Galloways- be they Belts, Riggit, Black, White or Dun- have very seldom been a problem. In fact, bulls, cows or mobs of boisterous yearlings, they’ve been quieter than most. So don’t let anyone tell you Galloways are difficult cattle to handle. It’s a state of mind.
About the author
Originally published in The Western Morning News, these articles are reproduced for the enjoyment of TFF members World-wide by kind permission of the author Anton Coaker and the WMN
Anton Coaker is a fifth generation farmer keeping suckler cows and flocks of hill sheep high on the Forest of Dartmoor and running a hardwood and mobile sawmill.
A prodigious writer and regular correspondent for The Western Morning News, NFU and The Farming Forum, Anton’s second book “The Complete Bullocks” is available from www.anton-coaker.co.uk
Anton's previous articles can be found here:
http://thefarmingforum.co.uk/index.php?threads/the-anton-coaker-western-morning-news-column.5538/
