My 4H calf
had a stubborn streak that I was determined to break.
If you have
been in a 4H beef club, you understand that we had our work cut out for us. Not
the least of these was training our calves to lead, stand, and wink at the
judges. (Smile!) -And that was only the half of it. We also had to learn how to
feed said calves and groom them, so they were ready for their 4H Calf Pageant
of the Year.
I should
clarify that if we did a masterful job preparing our calves, then we could have
a good chance to win the 4H trophy for "Best All Around Calf". There
were ribbons all the way from 4th to 1st place.
Now, if your
calf was lined up in the show ring where he was 'supposed' to be, and refrained
from kicking the judges, that was considered a huge plus! Glad I was never a
judge. (Just sayin.)
In my last
year of 4H, I had my single 4H calf and by then I qualified to have a 'pen of
five' as well. That meant that I had 7 calves I had to feed, train, groom, and
teach proper ring etiquette to. (One calf was a spare, just in case a calf got
sick.)
Well I had
noticed on our annual spring calf tour of all the calves in our club that my 'pen
of five' was the skinniest of the lot! Time for drastic measures!
I decided
that if I was not going to have the best looking 'pen of five', then I was
going to have the best trained pen of five! This meant that I had to train them
all to lead nicely and have good manners, by standing where and how I placed
them.
All was going
very well, except for Claude.
Oh! Didn't I
tell you their names?
There was
Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe, and Claude. I know, really original!
Eeny, Meeny,
Miny and Moe were well behaved and great on a lead rope. -But then came
Claude...a much different story.
When my own
brawn failed to budge him, I hitched him up to the tractor and drove in 'bull
low' with Claude tied on the back, and he fought that tractor with all four feet
planted firmly on the ground. The tractor just pulled Claude like a statue as
he skidded through the barnyard dirt leaving 4 skid marks in the gravel. He
snorted and fought that lead rope for all he was worth.
Well, that
didn't work, so I thought I would resort to gentler techniques once again and
use my own brawn.
Ha! Claude
knew better.
Talk about a
battle of wills. Claude just planted all 4's in the ground and no progress was
made, so I resorted to the most drastic measures of all. I let up on the rope
attached to his halter and called him every name that wasn't his. I let my
temper get away on me and I gave him a Karate chop right on the forehead. You
know, how those black belt guys karate chop the piles of bricks and the bricks
all break in half. Well, that is what in envisioned would happen to Claude.
His head
would just split in half...NOT!
I heard this
loud "splitting" sound, like when you drop a watermelon on the
ground. But when I looked at Claude, he was still in one piece. Bummer! Then I
realized that my left hand could not grip the rope. When I checked it out, it
was swollen twice its normal size.
Big shock! I
broke my hand! But how was I going to explain this to my Dad?
I had to concoct
a story about how Claude shook his head so hard trying to fight against me
pulling on his rope that he whipped my hand into the hay trough.
Yup! That's what I went with.
When we got
to Milk River and saw the doctor, he took an X-Ray and when he returned with
the pictures of my hand, he said that my break looked like I had been in a
fight. (Smart Doctor!)
I sheepishly
stuck to my story. It was 20 years before I finally got up the nerve to tell
Dad what really happened.
The good thing
about my broken hand was that I could "lord it over" on my siblings,
clunking them on the head if they refused to comply with my orders. The bad
thing was that I had an immobile hand for 6 weeks, and who was going to work
with my calves? It was getting woefully close to the big show!
All worked
out in the end. I received the prize for the gentlest 'pen of five' in the
competition.
Flash
forward.
Lessons
learned the hard way are always remembered.
Since then I
have realized that no matter what the outcome, always have integrity, be true
to your word and work like h-e-double-tooth-pics. People have respect for you
even if you fail, because you did not give up.
Many times in
my business I have felt like giving up and quitting, but this story always
lingers in my mind with the hard lessons learned from my 4H calf. Claude isn't
with me now, but I will always remember the lessons he taught me.
This is the
time of year to push into gear and take those life lessons, apply them to 2016
and forge ahead. Success is on its way for us all in 2016!
Got a LinkedIn question? Feel free to email me and I will
answer it in my next blog.
Fired at Fifty: Stop
Looking For Work and Discover What You Were Meant to Do.
http://bit.ly/FiredatFiftyKindle
Christine Till
The Marketing Mentress
1-780-904-9557
marketingmentress@gmail.com
Twitter: @mktgmentress
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