Well, he grew alright! In 2002, when the Middle Tarwin farm in South Gippsland was purchased, we transported Big Red to his new home, but first had to walk him around to the neighbour’s open race, as he had outgrown ours. Red’s back had reached a height of six feet and his huge head carried the most beautiful set of horns, which protruded approximately three feet outward on each side. Encompassing his solid build was his glistening, red, curly, healthy coat and the end of his long tail was a contrasting blonde. He was stunning and proud, and we had become extremely fond of him.

As it happened, Big Red became the leader of the farm pack in Middle Tarwin. He introduced the arriving cattle to their new surroundings, water etc. and would lead them into the strip-grazing paddocks as required. As he knew the farm so well, he would also play a huge part in bringing the cattle up to the yards. This meant crossing the steers over the bridge above the Tarwin River, which runs through our property. It used to be a very challenging task, especially before the fences and lane ways were erected, but Red was sensational at his job, for his sheer presence demanded respect from the other cattle and they would follow him like sheep.

We could never get closer than about a metre to Red before he would throw his head/horns around to warn us off. This wasn’t done aggressively, but just enough to let us know he didn’t want to be touched. Mind you, we’d had him eat bread out of our hands occasionally and coffee scrolls. He had such a sweet tooth and loved treats.

Drenching time wasn’t much fun. We couldn’t walk Red into the crush, so he’d be placed in the smallest yard. It was an effort trying to back-drench him when he’d be turning in circles! All parties involved were relieved when the task was completed.

As time went on and Big Red grew older and slower, arthritis began to creep into his back legs. We’d retired him from his cattle job and placed him in the driveway and around the house to ‘lawn mow’. It was warmer for him, as there were more sheltering trees than in the open paddocks. He loved it in his new area and soon became the daily attraction of many passing admirers, especially the school bus. The kids looked forward to seeing him and would excitedly ask the bus driver to slow down so they could get a good look.

Red was also a great watch dog, as strangers visiting the farm would look and think twice before entering! Red did look quite scary if you didn’t know him, and I’d given up counting how many times someone asked me, ‘Is that a Texas Longhorn bull?’

Sadly, in August of 2011, Big Red faced his final hours after a long and happy life of sixteen years, due to old age and progressing arthritis. He is now buried on the farm and will always be remembered as the statuesque, proud, and stunning bullock that he was. 

People had warned us not to become emotionally attached to our farm animals, but we wouldn’t trade one moment of our past with Big Red. Luckily we still have many beautiful portraits of him hanging on our fridge his young fans had drawn of him over the years and many amazing memories we cherish. 

We will surely miss the big fellow for the remainder of our farm days.