Wicked Good Lessons from a Bovine

written by

Carole Soule

posted on

October 6, 2026

Seven times Owen ran off. Seven times I walked him back. Somewhere around number five, I nearly gave up.

Owen is a three-year-old Scottish Highland steer who really does want to do the right thing. But like many of us, he gets frustrated when he doesn't understand what's being asked of him.

Owen2_SM.jpg
Owen, a three-year-old Scottish Highland steer, practices his turns at Miles Smith Farm.

Every training session with Owen starts and ends with a brushing. He lowers his head and leans in while I scrub his butt and lower legs, the itchy spots he can't reach with his horns. That bond began the day he was born, when his mother licked him clean. A cow's tongue is as rough as sandpaper, and a vigorous brushing is the closest I can come. Cattle groom each other with their tongues as a sign of affection. I'll stick with the brush.

Steering a Steer

Then comes the work. I put a yoke on Owen and hitched it to a stone boat, a sled for hauling things like stones. There's no lead rope. I steer him with only my voice, body language, and a long stick called a goad, asking him to pull the sled in a figure eight around two cones: "Haw" for left, "Gee" for right.

His Haw turns were perfect. His Gee turns? Not so much. I could nearly see the wheels turning behind those bangs: "If she walks ahead of me, I can duck out to the left and get away. I'd much rather be with my friends than learning this stuff."

And that's exactly what he did. Seven times he ignored my commands and dragged the sled around the farm: into the feed bunker, through the gate to the pasture, up the hill. Each time I kept my cool and led him back to the spot where he'd made his break. I never punished him.
Maybe he got tired of dragging a 200-pound sled around. Maybe I finally figured out how to ask so he’d understand. Probably both. Owen likes to be close to me, close enough to touch me with his horns. So I started walking just in front of those pointy tips and stopping every few feet to make sure he was paying attention to me and not daydreaming about his friends.

Success

With those changes, we became a team. He stopped running off, and I connected with him.

Working with an animal takes more than voice and body language. This may sound strange, but it's a spiritual connection, and it starts with my thoughts. Everything changed once I started anticipating his next move and stopped judging him for not understanding.

That works pretty well on people, too.

Owen gets to show off what he's learned this weekend. He and three other steers are traveling with me to the Sandwich Fair, where we'll compete against other teams in a log-scoot obstacle course. Hoping every turn is a Haw.

Want to meet Owen? Come to the farm on Saturday, Oct. 17, from 1 to 3 p.m. for our Advanced Cow Crew Experience. You can lead Owen through an obstacle course, ride one of our two Angus steers, and bathe Finn (weather permitting). My cattle love visitors, especially the ones who brush them.

Carole Soule is co-owner of Miles Smith Farm in Loudon, N.H., where corporate teams trade conference rooms for cow pastures. Hug Curious Bleu, our gentle Highland steer, saddle up on Bingo the riding steer, and bottle-feed newborn calves on a team-building retreat your crew will talk about for years. Book your herd at carole@cow-coach.com.

Steers

Scottish Highland training

Working a Steer

Yokes

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