Beef And Dairy Network - Episode 29 - Professor Colin Plenty

Episode Date: November 20, 2017

Kevin Eldon joins in for this episode in which we speak to Professor Colin Plenty from the British Farming Rare Breeds Society about the recent sighting of the rare pygmy cow. 
 By Benjamin Partridge, Kevin Eldon and everyone who phoned the Beef and Dairy Network answerphone. Thanks to Gemma Arrowsmith. 
 Stock media provided by Setuniman/Pond5.com and Soundrangers/Pond5.com

The Beef and Dairy Network podcast is sponsored by Bove Shield Plunge, the new antimicrobial cattle dip from Mitchell's. If it's not Mitchell's, get back in the truck. Remember, Bove Shield Plunge not only ensures the health of your herd, it can also be used to safely de-louse even the most infested of employees. For 10% off your next delivery of 1,000 gallons or more, use the code, there's no flies on me, daddy-o. of 1,000 gallons or more, use the code THERE'S NO FLIES ON ME, DADDY-O! Hello and welcome to the Beef and Dairy Network podcast, the number one podcast for those involved or just interested in the production of beef animals and dairy herds.

The Beef and Dairy Network podcast is the podcast companion to the Beef and Dairy Network website and printed magazine, brought to you by Bovshield Plunge. This month we simply couldn't ignore the big news that everyone has been talking about, the sighting of a rare, some thought extinct, pygmy cow. To cut through the rumour, fast talk, hogwash, gossip, hearsay, bumflash and tosh, I spoke to eminent zoologist, Professor Colin Plenty. My name is Colin Plenty. I am a consultant zoologist specialising in bear breeds of poultry, pigs, sheep and cattle. And I am associated with the British Farming Rare Breed Society,

which does sterling work protecting rare or dwindling species of poultry, pigs, sheep and cattle. Well, Colin, thank you very much for coming in. What are the methods that you're using to protect these rare species? Well, we're all about species preservation through carefully controlled breeding programs, always on hand with a test tube of warm sperm where necessary. Directly instrumental over years in saving various breeds from complete extinction, such as the Medway coughing cockerel, the bog water triple hoof alopecian sheep, the triple-hoof alopecian sheep, the grey-striped straight-tailed truffle hog, and the long-haired, short-horned, medium-uttered forest cow, to name but a few. And I guess people might be thinking, why is it so important to keep these rare breeds alive? Would the world, for example, miss the grey-striped straight-tailed truffle hog?

After all, there are plenty of different types of truffle hog out there. Yes, but there's only one species called the grey-striped straight-tailed. truffle hog after all you know there are plenty of different types of truffle hog out there yes but there's only one uh species called the gray striped straight tail truffle hog a lot of people ask me why it's so important to keep these breeds alive and my answer to them invariably is well why is it so important to keep you alive and uh that that usually gets some thinking. I'm not saying that the Shetland beach pig is more important than, say, a car park attendant or that the wheelchair brittle feathered hen deserves to be alive more than Tom Hanks does. But I always think that it's important to maintain a sense of perspective in these matters, that's all. Because we've lost so many valuable and wonderful breeds over the years.

It seems to me to be an aching tragedy that we'll never again savour a bacon sandwich courtesy of a Max Speckled Saddleback, or indeed feel between our fingers the swollen teats of an Airdrie Hairy Dairy. And yet, at the same time, the Beckhams keep having children. But that's the way of the world.

For now, anyway. Now, you're here with some very exciting news. Yes. And I'm right in saying that this week has seen the first official sighting of a pygmy cow in Britain since 1970. 1970, yes. 47 years since the last one. When a small herd was stumbled upon in the Brecon Beacons. They were studied forensically by a very well-respected zoologist, Sir Michael Balesden.

He set up a hide and studied them in detail for some months before they simply disappeared one night. A complete mystery as to where they moved on to, Complete mystery as to where they moved on to, but very much in keeping with what is a rather secretive, unpredictable animal. Incidentally, there have been many, many uncorroborated sightings over the centuries, but few authenticated. You might be interested to learn that the very first authenticated sighting was in 1610 when a herd of feral pygmy cows up to 60 strong rampaged through the market town

of Tollbridge-on-the-Spay savaging several cats, upsetting a tinker's cart and causing a widow to fall down a well, and killing a miller, a chandler, a weave, a blacksmith, two lepers, and the local idiot. The incident was documented in the parish records,

and tales of the incident swiftly spread via pamphlets and ballads and so forth, social media at the time, I suppose. And actually, I have a transcript of a verse of the lyrics of one of those ballads if you if you'd like to absolutely that sounds brilliant so this was written back in 1610 yes the the great uh tollbridge fairy steed stampede and uh this verse goes uh and low they were low and they load and with wo, the women and children did keen, and each man hid his head, and was eyeful of dread, as the fairy steeds vented their spleen. Wow, that's beautiful writing, and may I say very well read by yourself.

Thank you very much. I do poetry readings in the local church. And this was incidentally how pig-gmy cows were known for centuries, the reference to fairy steeds there. There's always been a lot of superstition generated by people or homo moronicus, as I jokingly refer to them. But a lot of superstition with regards to the pygmy cow and that they were horses for fairies. Yes, it's ridiculous, obviously. So do tell us about this most recent sighting then. Obviously, we've got the sighting in 1610.

There's the work in 1970 by Michael Balesden. And then this new recent sighting brings them right back into the modern day because many people thought they'd gone entirely, I think. That was the general consensus amongst zoologists well um i i think that uh a few of us had kept the faith um cyber said well you know it's not there anymore it's it's gone you know give it up um and indeed there have been no properly corroborated sightings uh since the since that heard in 1970 until this later sighting and what happened was this. The incident itself actually took place about three weeks ago, actually.

And a supermarket worker was apparently at the back of his supermarket, no doubt smoking his vape stick or drinking a smoothie, when he saw what he described as a scary animal. And he filmed it on his mobile telephone, uploaded the footage onto his Facebook page, where just last week, another fully accredited zoologist, a Marian Faithfull, not the singer, recognized it as a pygmy cow, and knowing that I'm something of an expert, cow, and knowing that I'm something of an expert, contacted me and alerted me to the sighting.

I accessed the footage with the help of my sister's son, and to my absolute delight, I was able to confirm that this was indeed a pygmy cow, a male foraging for food, possibly looking probably, I would hazard a guess, for

discarded ready meals. A fine example of a bovis parvissimus, more commonly known as a pygmy cow. More from Professor Colin Plenty coming up. But first, in the light of the news about the pygmy cow sighting, we put a post up on our website, asking network members to leave a message on the Beef and Dairy Answer Phone, telling us about any experiences they'd had with the diminutive beasts. The answer phone was totally jammed, so we can't play them all, but here's just a fraction of what we received. It happened late at night, must have been around 3am. I heard some rustling outside my window so I threw up on my curtains. The sound of

tiny hoof legs stomping on leaves grew closer. I dared to take a peek outside my window and the eyes. Oh my god, those bulgy eyes. I wasn't sure whether it was a badger at the time. It looked kind of that sort of size. One of them bit me toe off. I've only got nine, well, eight toes now. I'd already lost one from before. That was a dog. That was my own fault, really.

I've never told anyone this. This one night, I was closing up the pizzeria that I used to manage, and I heard the front doorbell. And I will swear to you, I locked closing up the pizzeria that I used to manage, and I heard the front doorbell. And I will swear to you, I locked it up. I called out, hey, hey, we're closed, sorry. And I came into the front of the shop. And then I saw there were four or five of these... These animals.

I couldn't tell you what they were. I thought they were... They weren't dogs. Their teeth were all wrong. And... Their eyes. I looked at... The leader's eyes. And... They looked like the eyes of a boy I once knew.

Jeremy? Now back to our big interview with Professor Colin Plenty. Now, it's surprising many people because most of us had heard of the pygmy cow, but had considered it to be a totally mythical creature, like a unicorn or a dragon or a manatee. And I'm sure people at home will be thinking, you know, are you sure that it was actually a pygmy cow you saw and not just some sort of weird looking dog, for example? Well, of course, that is the kind of thing that people tend to think, isn't it? If think really is the word we're looking for, because, you know, you could argue that kind of thinking is the reason we have

skateboards and strictly come dancing. And, you know, it's not too unreasonable to conclude that if new breeding programs were introduced into the population, perhaps we wouldn't have to introduced into the population, perhaps we wouldn't have to choke at the stench of the neural flatulence that so often masquerades as and is taken for thought. But hush,

that's exactly the kind of plain speaking that's had me pilloried here and slandered there over the years. So perhaps we should leave that particular jar of jam in the larder for now. Yeah, well, I'm happy for you to stop talking about eugenics for a moment.

Maybe just come back to the question of, you know, will people believe that this is real? I think eugenics is probably too strong the word. I think it's just saving ourself a lot of grief down the line. It's logic. I'm a scientist. So, yes, I have no doubt that many people didn't think they were real. Just as an ant doesn't think electricity is real because it can't see it, or a piece of seaweed doesn't think Beethoven is real

because it's just a piece of straggly rock covered. I'm going to drink some water. Is that fizzy no now obviously um very few people alive have seen a pygmy cow in the flesh some of us have seen the the grainy videos that people put on youtube um many of those are uncooperated and obviously we can't be sure that those are actually pygmy cows, but we've seen those blurry videos and so forth. But can you explain to us what they look like, what we should be looking for when we're out

and about, just in case we do see a pygmy cow? Sure, sure. And in fact, my nephew has showed me several of the YouTube sightings and they're clearly dogs with masks on. But in appearance, they are generally two to two and a half feet high,

three to three and a half feet long, very bulky, rather squat creatures with very small heads, tiny ears, large protruding bulbous eyes, and two rather disconcerting incisor teeth protruding from the top mandible. They have very short, very thin legs, which is quite deceptive because they're very fleet and can squeeze themselves through the narrowest of gaps, hedgerows, fences, what have you. And actually it's one of the reasons that I would never have a cat flap fitted into my house.

Is that right? Yeah, and because I don't have a cat flap fitted into my house. Is that right? Yeah, and because I don't have a cat. One shouldn't underestimate a pig with cow. They are killers, quite ruthless, an evolutionary lesson in survival against all the odds. And, well, I love them. I actually love them. Going back to that cat flap issue, if people at home are listening and they have got a cat flap…

Block it up. They should block it up. They should block it up. I mean, you know, the chances are minimal, but the repercussions of one actually getting into your home don't bear thinking about. The havoc that they could wreak, any other pets would instantly be flung around the place and eviscerated. Children would be at risk, as indeed would adults, not to mention soft furnishings. Have there been any reported instances in which a pygmy cow has come through a cat flap? Yes, in Taunton in 1989, the lady in question described what sounds very much to me like a pygmy cow. It dived into her aquarium and dispatched the contents therein, then drank all the water, urinated over the wallpaper and left.

I mean, I grew up with the fairy tales. I mean, I grew up with the fairy tales. My favorite was always the little match girl with the girl who lights her last match in the cold street, you know, the light of which attracts a pygmy cow that then devours her and her entire village. You know, I loved reading that as a kid. But I never thought they were real. I thought it was a large Labrador, but it was actually a big me cow.

I was alarmed when it licked my left hand, leaving a sort of unpleasant residue on my sleeve. And later, when I got inside, discovered it had also taken my wristwatch with it. Also, it had bitten off my left hand. Goodbye. Last night I was walking my little dog, and one of those little pygmy things snuck up my little pookums. It's been just such a tragedy.

One evening as a young man I was skinny dipping in a shallow pond with my great aunt and I felt a nibbling in my genital area. I woke up in the middle of the night because the dog was going nuts. Barking at the door that leads down to the basement. As soon as I opened it, he charged down the stairs and I chased after him. I turned on the light and there was this... Well, I thought it was another dog at first. Like a Dalmatian with weird kind of big spots. But when I got closer, I could see it was actually a tiny cow. It had gotten into the Christmas decorations

and was breaking ornaments with its hooves, and the dog got to it. Then the cow leapt up like some sort of jungle cat and snapped the dog's neck before turning to face me. I was terrified. I turned and ran back up the stairs and locked the door while the cow ran rampant. After it was quiet, I went back to the basement to check. The cow was gone, along with any sign of my dog.

The broken Christmas ornaments were scattered across the entire basement. I never figured out how it had gotten in. Oh my god. I'm leaving a motel. I just had to... I haven't been home in three days. They're still coming. Can you help me please? I don't know what to do. So when you started studying the pygmy cow back in the 1960s, they were very rare then. They're also, we imagine, incredibly rare now. Have they always been this rare?

No, no, no, no. No. 10,000 years ago, great herds of pygmy cows, often some 5,000 strong, were roaming all over northern Europe. Evidence exists of their presence all the way to the Middle East, in fact. There is evidence of them in cave wall paintings found in the Neander Valley and at Lascaux. And in fact, for centuries, historians and archaeologists thought that early cave dwellers had rather precociously perfected artistic perspective and that they were depicting men chasing cattle that were a long way away. But subsequently, of course, we can see that they were merely drawing pygmy cows to scale, and that it was in fact the pygmy cows who were chasing men.

Then about 2,000 years ago, it seems that the species experienced its own cataclysmic event. There are many theories of virus, this possibility. And then somebody actually opened their mouth in the 1970s and spewed some bilge about abduction by aliens, but they're dead now, good riddance. But I think the most likely hypothesis is that they ate each other into extinction. What, the cows ate other pygmy cows? Yes, there was an element of cannibalism.

It seems that in the mini ice age that occurred in northern Europe about two millennia ago, with the lack of grasses and dying out of many species they preyed upon, it's very likely, in my opinion, that they turned on each other and found each other more than just a little bit too delicious. Now you've mentioned sir michael belsdon who did such good work in uh cataloging his experiences with the uh with the pygmy cows he's a wonderful man and um he actually made a few recordings didn't he of of the pygmy

cows he did uh cry yes uh now i've got a recording here this is uh made in august 1970 uh michael belson recorded this himself should we have a listen Everybody knows The pygmy cows are coming You better watch out The pygmy cows are coming Those little cows You gotta wash them out

You've had your fun Now you're done you better start to run. Little pygmy cows, here they come, you're not gonna stop them. A tiny pretty cow by the size of a dog A big fat trunk like a funny little hog You better get your gun When they come they gonna eat your mom The pygmy cows are here They don't fuck about you better watch out for their ears Here they come Those little pygmy cows, here they come Oh bugger, I've run out of tape.

So there you go. How do you feel listening to that? I feel completely, utterly and definitively happy. Happy. And it's certainly something that one day I hope to hear with my own ears. More after this. Hey everyone, Freddie Wong, Matt Arnold, and Will Campos here to tell you about Story Break, a Writer's Room podcast where every week we, the Hollywood geniuses behind video game high school, have one hour to turn a humble idea into an awesome movie. Thrill as we weave the tragic tale of Jar Jar, a Star Wars story.

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Will we break the story? Or will the story break us? Find out by joining us in the writer's room every Thursday on MaximumFun.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

Now, we all grew up hearing fairy stories about pygmy cows my own grandmother used to tell me that unless i finished on my peas a pygmy cow would come and turn me into a stone with a single look well what a ridiculous old woman right are the myths about them true is what i'm trying to ask there's many myths out there maybe you can try and separate some of the fact from fiction well it's an entire canon of myths and legends about big wing cows or fairy steeds, as they've sometimes been referred to as about to us.

It is said that witches would have the gallbladder of a pygmy cow hung up in the rafters of their hovels to ward off good. There's a legend that the first thing King Arthur did after putting Excalibur out of the stern was to point it at a pygmy cow, and upon the pygmy cow turned into a bushel of golden turnips. And you're saying that you don't think these things are true.

Would you think if you had a magic sword and you pointed it at a creature, it would turn into a golden mound of vegetables? If you think that's true, then, you know, you should, I don't know what you should do. Well, you've told me things this afternoon that I find to be

quite unusual as well. You know, the idea of a small cow coming through a cat flap and drinking in an aquarium similarly to me sounds like quite a preposterous thing. Well, it might sound preposterous, but I would have thought

that it sounds less preposterous than somebody pointing a length of tempered steel at a tiny cow and then it turning into a pile of root vegetables made of a precious metal. Sure. Come on, man, think.

Is it true that the pygmy cow is mentioned in the Bible? Yes, it's mentioned in the Bible. I have a quote here, if you want to discern what it's worth. Theraticus 4.25 And the Lord said to Gematanon, Shun not the afflicted, for they, like the dwarfish cattle, pygmy cow, though despised,

yet they do bathe in the light of my love, and I kneel before me in despair, for though my grace is perfection, yet must my infinite fury and spite be v before me in despair, for though my grace is perfection, yet must my infinite fury and spite be vented till the earth is blackened or scorched and the rivers run red with the blood of innocents. And what does that teach us about the pygmy cow? Nothing.

Right. And what about the mention of the fairy steed? Now, obviously, as you said earlier, it is referred to as the fairy steed throughout history and in literature. Yes, from the 13th century until well into the early 20th century, the superstition was that fairies used the pygmy cows to ride upon. And there's no truth in this? Well, why these fairies didn't just use their bloody fairy wings and fly might be a question worth asking.

Of course, it's obviously futile to try to find logic in the ravings of sod-munching peasants. So can history tell us anything about the pygmy cow? It is mentioned through the years, isn't it? Shakespeare, I think, tells us something about the way that pygmy cows were considered? Now, Shakespeare does actually mention them in A Comedy of Dreams, referring again to a fairy steed.

In the play, you may remember the aging farrier, Muntus, bemoans his sexual impotence during attempted congress with his young wife, Antonia, with a plaintive cry, Are soft, my love, too soft for thee. Look not upon me, for my once proud stallion is naught but fairy steam,

and I fear I shall never again mount. Hello. I'm just ringing because there are some animals on my front lawn. They look like a sort of herd of big dogs, like not dogs. Anyway, I'm sure it's something to worry about, but I just thought that maybe they might be those piggy cows you mentioned on your website. They're quite placid at the moment. They're quite cute, actually. Lovely big eyes. Anyway, I might go and milk one of them. Okay, bye. Okay, definitely a bad idea to milk one. They seem pretty agitated. One's sitting in the wing mirror off my car and one's urinating and screaming through the letterbox. You might be able to hear it. Also,

the milk is disgusting. Oh no, they found the back door. Okay, they're in the house now. Maybe someone there could call me back with some advice. Oh, come on the stairs. How were they able to walk on the ceiling? Why? I only wanted to taste their milk. Those clothing eyes. Those teeth. Please, please, please don't eat me.

Don't eat me. Help. If you can hear this, please, please send help. Why is this happening to me? I only wanted their milk. So now that you have the first fully corroborated sighting of a pygmy cow since 1970, what is the British Farming Rare Breed Society going to do about it? And what's your ultimate aim really when it comes to the pygmy cow?

Well, I suppose I can't really speak for the whole of the society, but certainly I see nothing less than a complete reintroduction of the pygmy cow into the British countryside to wander free and unfettered as of old, as is their right and heritage. And ultimately, I would hope to see this repopulation spreading to Northern Europe, then the rest of Europe, out back into the Middle East, and eventually the whole world. So what should someone do if they come across one? Because I think if they've heard this podcast,

they will rightly be afraid, maybe. And maybe they're walking through a forest glade or an abandoned industrial estate, and one just comes out from behind some bins. God help you. Well, one should be afraid. There's not much else one can do if you come across one. If you run, they'll be on you. If you stay perfectly still, they'll be on you. If you move very slowly, well, that's the worst option of all. Slow-moving objects send them

completely doodlally. They've been observed stamping on a snail for up to 15 minutes. So you said if you run, that's no good. If you stay still, that's no good. Don't stand still. So are you saying people stand no chance whatsoever if they come across one of these animals?

They stand no chance. Say your prayers. Time to meet your maker, if you believe in that nonsense. The press coverage of the sightings has been pretty hysterical, really. I've got some papers here. The Daily Mail, front page, Britain faces face-eating cow threat. The Mirror, return of the monster cow dwarf. And The Sun has gone for pygmy Cowmageddon.

Now, after what you've told me about these cows, they do sound like they are a pretty dangerous and quite fearsome animal. And what the papers, I think, are saying is, and they have interviewed you and you've given your thoughts to them, they're saying, how can you justify advocating for there being thousands of these animals across the British Isles, and if you get your way across the entire world, when indeed they are so dangerous? This is all about respect, lack of respect. There are millions of us ranging across Britain and the world, and yet you don't hear a pick-me-cow complaining about that, do you? The sheer arrogance of it suggests that they haven't the right to be restored to their former glory.

And as long as we understand that nature takes its course and it will all balance out the way it should at the end. Then we should progress with that in our hearts and minds as being the correct way forward. But let's make this a bit balder. Would you advocate a system whereby we release the pygmy cows into the ecosystem and as a result, thousands and thousands of human beings die.

Obviously, I would not take that as my primary aim. But are we such important creatures that we can't lose a few thousand out of six billion? If I went, I wouldn't go complaining. I would go, well, you know,avi that's that's the way it goes so you're saying if a pygmy cow came and came and tore your throat out of your neck how would you feel you know i i i have i have nothing but uh obeisance as far as the needs of evolution and nature are concerned. And if that were the way that I went, then there would be a certain glory in it,

a certain beauty in it, and a fitting way. It's slightly better than going at an old people's home, vomiting out your lungs and sitting in your own urine. Colin Plenty, thank you very much. Not at all. Thanks to Professor Colin Plenty for that interview. I hope soon, Colin, you realise your dream of seeing a pygmy cow in the flesh.

But not in your flesh. So that's all we've got time for this month. But if you're after more beef and dairy news, get over to our website now, where you can read all the usual stuff, as well as our off-topic section, where this month we ask, what is love? So, until next time, beef out. Thanks to Kevin Eldon and everyone who called the Beef and Dairy Answerphone. That's Gemma Arrowsmith, Gareth Gwynne, Mark Turetsky, Dan James, Joe Gleadle,

Paulina Reyes-Garcia, Lauren Hancock, Randall Cooper, Andy Pond, Jessica Ortiz, Joshua Smith and Susan Godfrey. Going into a Bullseye interview, I know that it's somebody who does amazing work, but it's an actual conversation and sometimes it gets real. No, but my mother, I remember when I got... This is going to become a therapy session very quickly. Does that make sense? I feel like I'm in therapy. That was a great interview. Bullseye. Creators you know, creators you need to know.

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