The French Fry calf

For the past few years the show string here at Northview has been oddly bereft. Kind of dull and ordinary even. Since the death of our all-time-number-one-best show cow, Frieland LV Dixie, there just hasn't been another animal that had her "big cheese" presence and bossy ways. Mandy, our current anchor cow, is sweet enough, and lovable, but mostly you would describe her personality as pleasantly stupid (at four years of age she still stops at the barn corner, too confused to turn right to find the door....twice a day, every day.)

This year, just to test the waters, Liz took a calf that belongs to her dad, Frieland Chilt Blink, (those are her ribs sporting the Northview sign in the header), over to Fonda. The competition is harsh there and Blink stood last in her class. (We subscribe to the "somebody has to be last" school of showing and don't get too excited about it though. We have been on the other end a few times too.)

Anyhow the kids came home laughing like crazy yesterday and said, "We've got another Dixie!" Another Dixie...hard to imagine another cow as funny and yet imperious, queen of the world and everything in it, as old Dix. She had so much personality that I even had her ghost write my newspaper column, the Farm Side, once. (She bragged about how many people worked so hard to take care of her wants and needs...veterinarians, feed salesmen, peons {us}. It was so "her".)

One of the most entertaining, (not to mention most aggravating) features of Dixie's outlook on life was that she considered ALL food to belong to her. ALL food. We discovered this little quirk when Liz ran to clean up a "phone call" and left nachos on her chair, well out of reach (she thought). She returned to find an empty plate and a smug, self-satisfied cow with cheese on her whiskers.

From there on no French fry was safe. No taco salad uneaten. No Nacho unstolen. It became part of the culture of fair week to feed Dixie odd foods and watch her enjoy them. If you didn't offer she would ask, swinging her long head and lashing her tongue in the direction of your dinner. When she passed away no other cow seemed to come along that was as much fun to take to the show.

Enter Blink. Alan was sitting on a bale of straw noshing onion rings the other day when something large and sticky slipped under his arm and plopped in his plate, slapping up most of the food. It was Blink's tongue. She wanted some. Ketchup and all. Finding cow slobber unappetizing he let her finish them off. There was no turning back. Besides being a nice natured, engaging critter like old Dix, she shares her taste in junk food. Last night the kids bought her a whole plate of French fries and ketchup and took a video of her eating them. Right now they are busy with the fair, but as soon as Liz gets a chance it will be posted on BuckinJuntion

I have never seen food vanish so fast. If cows could eat hot dogs Joey Chestnut would have to look to his laurels.