Host: Noreena Downs Station
Written by Kate Paull – Owner, Noreena Downs Station.
G’day you chickees and blokes out there, I am Noreena’s oldest known cow, so yeah I’m 28 in human years and 165 cow years, still waiting on the queen writing me, it’s gotta come soon, not like waiting or anything . . .
But let me tell you a thing or two, I feel as young as a rock chick. I can still move my hips around and do a quick dash when need be, especially last year when I snuck off in a little bit of wattle on a sand plain 100 metres from the homestead yards while I was in the mob with my groupies. I had tried sneaking off a few times on the wing (side of the mob of cattle) but that bloody midget on the 4 wheeler who is also my carer these days kept catching me out!
I heard her tell the riders on them funny motorised bicycles (which apparently in technical terms are called a two wheel motorbike) on the walkie talkie to keep an eye on me. ‘Pfft I don’t think so juniors’, and so I did my sneaky dash to the south to head down to Foster’s bore (a water point) to where I used to live in the drought, due to our carer giving us carrots and molasses to help keep us alive, these days I prefer Warumby bore.
In my 28 years I have seen two horrible droughts, plenty of dry years and a few good seasons where there is plenty of grass, shrubs, and weeds to eat, those years are great because I get to gorge my face. I have also seen so many new things been put on Noreena; water points, tanks, big massive water pannikins (troughs), these paddock things, new cow highways, the yard use to be an old wooden set now I get to waltz through the big steel design. Life’s a luxury baby, live it, trust me.
On Noreena there are six people that have been part of my life for a long time, when I was little and in the cattle yards for the first time the kids came into the pen where my calf friends and I were, they were patting us and hugging us and trying to get us to suck off their fingers so they could give us water. This was my first interaction with humans, today one of those kids is my carer, my old carer use to be Tex, he always had respect for us cattle no matter how much we tried to get away with things. I always remember him coming to the back yards when we were trying to put it over everyone and telling us we were old shits and shitbaggers, then he would point his finger to the gate and say “way you go”. This was his serious talk, which meant “go or be culled”, so off we would trot through the gate. Funny old bugger, last year when Tex passed away it was a sad day for us cattle as he was our king, carer and educator.
One of those kids from way back now flies the chopper, so I will have to get sneakier with my hiding plans. The other pops in with much excitement every now and then, another is pretty fast on them two wheel speedy scooters haha, too quick for me and Tex’s partner in crime- I always see her during the mustering time doing the mill run so we have constant water, what a champ!
Each year when I decide to attend the muster, I get on the march with my groupies to the yards and once passing the draft, I get into the race to get my yearly hair salon treatment, I try to stay really cool and in fashion with all the other girls and get the bangtail bob, sooo my style.