4 minute read
Feature: Tales from the feedlot
FEATURE
Tales from the feedlot
Somewhere amidst the hundreds of cattle and swirling dust you’ll find REBECCA NADGE pen riding on a large south west NSW feedlot.
Asea of soft, brown eyes and rhythmical cud-chewing greeted me. ““Come on boys,” I urge, “let’s go!”
My voice was hoarse from whooping and encouraging the pen of cattle to amble out of the gate and spill into the laneway. It’s sunrise, and the dust lingers in the air as the group slowly gains traction and begins to march off in front of me. I’m riding Tanami, an aged stock horse cross who’s probably seen and forgotten more about life at a feedlot than I ever will. We’re carrying out a pen move, which involves taking up to 355 head of cattle down a series of laneways from one area of the feedlot to another.
Most of the group are happy to keep wandering forwards, until one beast – I quickly learned there’s always one – decides to turn and make a break. Tanami automatically spins on a dime and blocks his path, and I scold myself for letting him turn in the first place. That was another lesson I had picked up early: cattle are very quick to capitalise on any lapses in attention.
I’m working at JBS Australia’s Prime City Feedlot located at Tabbita in the south west of NSW. It’s a complex operation that runs about 30,000 head of cattle across 130 different pens. Having come from racing and eventing, I had virtually no idea what pen riding involved, but the idea of getting paid to ride my own horses seemed too good to be true and I figured everything else would fall into place once I got underway.
Like the other riders, it was my love of horses that drew me to the role. I had imagined the job to be something between campdrafting and cutting, but I soon found the best riders barely needed to leave a walk. Cattle are extremely perceptive to body language and positioning – a single mistimed step can change their direction or speed – and in most cases less is more.
While horses don’t need to be experienced in working cattle, they do need a good foundation to go forwards, sideways, stop, and turn willingly and without fuss. The lighter and more balanced a horse is to ride, the more focused a rider can be on assessing each beast for subtle signs of an early illness, which could be as simple as a dull look in their eye or a lowered head. An unsettled horse can stir up the pen, and the opportunity to see a vulnerable animal will be lost.
I was told early on that pen riders need to have a good eye, patience, and they need to care. Every beast at the feedlot is checked daily and using horses is more efficient than going on foot. The height from a horse’s back also makes it easier to survey a pen and notice anything that isn’t quite right. Cattle can suffer from bovine respiratory disease, which is the most commonly diagnosed
illness to affect Australian feedlots, but pen riders will be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, including stray cattle in the lane, sore feet, or weight loss. The earlier a compromised beast is noticed, the better the chance it has to recover, and riders will draft it from the pen and walk it to the on-site hospital where it can be treated.
I turned my attention back to Tanami and shifted my seat as I tried to get comfortable. I’d swapped my jump saddle for a swinging fender and jodhpurs for jeans, but my body still protests at the end of each day. My fortnight consists of eight days on and six off with roughly eight hours a day spent in the saddle, and almost six of those in a continuous shift. I’ve come to develop a new admiration for feedlot horses.
Not unlike people, feedlot horses have a good work ethic, trainable temperament, and come in all shapes and sizes. I was warned that correctly fitted gear and proper horse management was essential and soon enough I could see why – I’d tracked my ride one morning and racked up 20 kilometres with over 1,100 transitions. Like most disciplines, conformation plays a part when it comes to managing soundness. Most riders also have at least three horses on
rotation – something I was quick to point out to my boyfriend when he queried my latest horse purchase – and various pieces of tack to choose from.
The sun is up now and the feedlot buzzes with activity. I lock the last few beasts into the pen and laugh as the ever energetic Wagyu cattle follow us along the fence line and eagerly crowd around the gate. We ride out whether it’s rain, hail, or shine, but thankfully today is the latter. That was another thing I’ve been lucky enough to learn: a long day in the saddle will always trump even the best day in the office.
