This is what it is all about. Every cow horse junkie lives for the next fence run. It is what hooks spectators and competitors alike in this great sport. The ability of a single horse to control a single cow at speed makes for an exhilarating ride and a thrilling performance. At the futurity, it all comes down to the Cow Work, also known as Fence Work. On the last day, no matter where anyone is sitting after the Herd Work and Rein Work, it's anybody’s game. This is a very complicated sport, and all I have the room for is the “cliff notes” version, but it will help to give you an idea of what you are looking at when you watch a run.
Fence Work competition begins with one cow being let out into the arena when the contestant on his horse nods his head. First, the cow is boxed in the short end of the arena to demonstrate control and for the rider and horse to get a feel for the specific cow. Next, the team turns the cow around the corner and runs with it down the long side of the arena. A turn on the fence in each direction must be completed, and then the cow is circled in each direction in the middle of the arena. Sounds pretty simple, right? If you are nodding your head, it is apparent you have not ever seen a cowhorse competition. Those of you shaking your head have witnessed all the things that can go wrong in that two minute time period.
As in the reining and cutting, the contestants begin with a score of 70 and are given credits and minuses throughout the run. The fence portion is judged on the degree of difficulty, which usually is based on the toughness of the individual cow, control, eye appeal, and overall run content. Pluses are given for speed and accuracy when turning the cow and circling. Points are deducted for loss of working advantage, going past the cow when turning, biting and kicking, turning before the center marker on the first trip down the wall, or not getting the cow turned before the end marker. A score of zero is given if the horse or rider falls, and it is at the judge’s discretion to whistle off and give a zero score if the run is becoming dangerous to the horse, rider, or cow.
Terminology
Go By!: You will often hear this being screamed by onlookers or trainers when a horse is having a hard time getting a cow turned. It means that the rider should kick or ride the horse past the cow to make the cow turn.
New cow: This is signified by the judge blowing his whistle twice and is given when the judge feels that the cow is unworkable, unsafe, runs blindly, or won’t go at all.
Get to the Head: Hollered as often as “go by,” this refers to the rider hustling up in their circles and riding to the head of the cow to turn it.
Rating: This is when the horse is at the shoulder of the cow and mimics its speed until he is asked to turn the cow.
Late: Refers to not being with the cow in correct position as it either leaves the corner--which means you have to run faster than the cow to catch it--or when you are coming out of a fence turn, which causes you to “hit the cow in the butt,” making it run harder.
Loop: This is generally done after the first fence turn if a hard-running cow pops off the fence or if you are late getting out of a turn. It is done by “looping” the cow in a circle at the end of the arena and taking it back down the same fence for the second turn.
Switch: Also a common thing to hear shouted from the stands, "switch" refers to it being the right time to change the direction you are circling the cow and to go the other way.
Bonus Essay from Allison for the Senior Horse Issue!
Growing Up Together
The senior horse issue of NWHS is what first inspired me to want to share my experiences with others. This is an essay that I wrote a while ago, and that I hold very close to my heart. I want to share it with you while my baby is still with us.
My dad brought Bayleen home as a feisty two-year-old in the spring of 1979. She was an Arab/appaloosa cross, raised at the head of the Kachemak Bay outside of Homer, Alaska. She was smart, athletic, and a beautiful seal bay. My dad had always wanted horses, but the experience was almost as new as I was, born just the fall before. He bought some tack, got on her, and took her on her first of many moose hunting trips that fall. She was an excellent hunting horse, well known as the best around our parts, and on one occasion saved my dad from being eaten by a grizzly sow and three cubs!
When I was ten, I had outgrown my own horse and wanted to turn Bay into my 4-H and rodeo horse. She took to it immediately, and we won ribbons, trophies, highpoints, and more loot than one person ever would need. I competed as a thirteen-year-old with Bayleen for the Happy Valley Rodeo Queen and we won that as well. She had become a local hero of sorts, but more than anything, she was my best friend. On sunny days, I would sit between her legs as she lay in the field. I would ride bareback for hours out through the trees, and when I was upset with normal teenage issues, I would bury my face in her mane and cry on her shoulder. My love of horses and animals grew, and I went to college to study Animal Science at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, CA.
When I moved to Ferndale. Washington and began competing in reining, cutting, and working cowhorse events, my family decided it was time for Bayleen to retire to warmer climates and had her shipped here. We had tried unsuccessfully many times to breed her as a younger horse, and she always tried to lure away other mares’ babies when she was out in the field. When she arrived in Washington, she was in such great condition that we thought we would try breeding her to our stud Laddie and give her the chance to have a baby of her own. At 27 years old, Bayleen gave birth to a bay roan filly named Lilly (named for my father’s mother) to carry on her legacy. She loved being a mom and it filled and warmed our hearts to know that she was able to have that experience. We started Lilly, and found she was much like her mother: elegant, talented, and kind.
Bayleen is a young 31 this year and does her job proudly as our ranch mascot. We have somewhere around fifty horses on the ranch, and when I think about what set the course of my life, I think it was the first day my dad sat me on Bayleen’s back when I was six months old. She was my childhood friend, my teenage confidante, and now is a vital part of my support group. When life gets too complicated and the stress piles up, I still grab a halter, hop on Bayleen bareback, and ride off into the trees.
