Before we ever stepped foot in Lubbock, our summer adventure began far from the dust and heat of West Texas. We headed north — way north — from Houston to Modoc, Indiana, chasing cool mornings, green pastures, and good Shorthorn cattle.

The Cates crew had just pulled back into town from the Atlantic National Angus Show — rolling in around 3:30 a.m., the very day we arrived. But in true Cates fashion, they didn’t miss a beat. That first night, we celebrated Kyle Shoufler’s birthday with a backyard cookout hosted by Cortney, where Knox picked up right where he left off with Piper Cates and Hudson Shoufler — the kind of easy, familiar reunion that only happens between true friends.

The next evening, we gathered around Lauren Shoufler’s kitchen island, building our own pizzas before sliding them into the outdoor oven — a ritual that felt equal parts cozy and celebratory. Tossing dough, layering toppings, sharing stories… it was the kind of evening that reminds you how lucky you are to be part of this extended cattle industry family.

We cheered on Piper at her softball game on our last evening in town and got to see her knock out not one, but two home runs. Afterward, we capped the night with a stop at the Richmond Pizza King — because apparently, when you’re in Indiana, pizza becomes a theme.

It was in the 50s and 60s — true sweater weather — and a welcome break from the summer sauna back home at the ranch. We even served as assistant shepherds to the Shoufler flock, which sounded like a great idea until Knox found himself clinging to the back of a brood ewe for some impromptu mutton busting. She took off like a shot — and the look on Knox’s face instantly changed from eager cowboy to full-blown regret. 

But hey, he stayed on. 

We looked at a few standout Shorthorn heifer calves, too — the kind that just might make their way to Texas for the V8 Shorthorn herd after Labor Day. They won’t carry our brand, of course, but they might carry our hopes for the future.

We wrapped up the Indiana chapter with lunch alongside Knox’s Mimi (my mom) before flying back to Houston. After a quick overnight at the airport hotel, we caught an early morning flight to Lubbock — full of excitement, and ready for the next adventure.

Now Entering Enemy Territory

Let’s talk about Lubbock. As proud Aggies, rolling into Texas Tech country is a little like being a Baptist at a honky-tonk — you can appreciate the music, but you’re keeping one eye on the exit.

We kept a running tally of red and black memorabilia, muttering things like “bless their hearts” every time we passed a Raider flag. Knox may have even whispered, “Mom, are they okay?” when we saw a giant inflatable Tech helmet.

But credit where it’s due: Lubbock gave us some good laughs and even better memories.

Prairie Dogs and Panic

On Friday, we made a stop at Prairie Dog Town — a quirky little landmark nestled in the heart of Lubbock, where the locals walk on four legs and live underground. We brought along a handful of dog biscuits to offer up as peace treaties.

At first, Knox knelt in the dirt, whispering to them like some kind of cowboy Dr. Dolittle. But then… the prairie dogs started squeaking. Not just one — all of them. Heads popped up, tails flicked, and a chorus of chirps echoed across the field.

Knox didn’t hesitate.

“They’re organizing,” he said, wide-eyed. “They’re coming for me.”

And just like that, he high-tailed it back to the car, abandoning his biscuits and any hope of cross-species diplomacy. We laughed about it the rest of the day — and honestly, we still are.

Shorthorns, Speeches, and Second Chances

Our main reason for making the trek to Lubbock wasn’t sightseeing or prairie dogs — it was the Texas Junior Shorthorn Preview Show. While we didn’t haul cattle this time — too far, too hot, and too close to Junior Nationals to put Margie on the trailer — we still saw it as a valuable opportunity.

Knox, as a Prospector I, was able to enter two of the contests: speech and photography. Think of it as a dress rehearsal for Junior Nationals — a chance to make sure your materials are ready, your timing is right, and your nerves are battle-tested. 

This year’s speech theme? “What Makes Shorthorns Groovy.” Fitting, since Junior Nationals is headed to Groovy in Grand Island.

We also wanted Knox to experience contests like team fitting and team sales — things he’s only heard about in stories or seen on grainy home videos from 20 years ago. He and Russell Sciba have been practicing fitting here at the ranch, slipping it in between pond swims and catfish catches. After watching the team contests live and in person, Knox lit up. “I want to do that at Junior Nationals,” he said.

Only one problem: we didn’t have a team. Or even a partner.

But that’s the beauty of the Shorthorn Preview Show — and the Shorthorn community at large. People show up. They help. They make space for new faces and small voices.

While waiting in the staging area for the speech contest, we struck up a conversation with the Thomas family — Kurtis, Ashley, and their three girls. Kurtis and Catherine go way back to their FFA days, growing up in the same area. Kurtis smiled and told Knox, “Your mom always beat me in the Beef Proficiency contest. I just aimed for second place.” (Which, for the record, Catherine won at the state level.) Turns out, Kurtis was the Texas FFA State President. Ashley? Also a state officer. You could say their kids have a solid coaching staff.

Naturally, we were a little nervous going head-to-head in competition with a family that knows how to win — and cares just as much as we do. But that moment reminded us this wasn’t about beating anyone. It was about trying.

Knox repeated, “This is nerve-wracking” over and over as he walked toward the judges’ table to deliver his speech. Catherine and I quietly slipped into the back of the room. The silence between each paragraph felt a mile wide. We held our breath with every pause, hoping he hadn’t forgotten what came next.

He hadn’t. He nailed it.

When he turned around at the end, his whole face lit up. That grin — part pride, part relief, all Knox — said everything we needed to know: he did it, he knew it… and he’s on his way to being the kind of cowboy who doesn’t just show cattle — he speaks up for them, too.

Growing Up, One Vote at a Time

Later that afternoon was the official Texas Junior Shorthorn Association annual meeting — the first one Knox had ever participated in. The junior officers covered the usual business: reminders, updates, and plans for the summer ahead. But when it came time to elect the new TJSA officer team, you could feel the room shift.

Knox had never cast a vote before.

From the sidelines, we watched him clutch his little ballot like it was gold, studying the names, listening carefully. And in that quiet moment — just a boy, a pencil, and a piece of paper — we saw something shift. He was growing up. We weren’t just parents tagging along to a cattle show anymore — we were watching early leadership skills unfold. And we couldn’t help but picture a few years down the road… Knox standing at the front of the room, giving a speech of his own, asking for votes.

After the meeting, things got a little sweeter — literally. The junior board hosted an ice cream social, and kids were told to pick their treat of choice: an ice cream sandwich, a crunch bar, or a drumstick. Little did they know, those choices would divide them into surprise teams for the Barnyard Olympics.

While the kids licked their melting sugar and bonded over frozen loyalties, the parents did what parents do: we schemed.

Knox had been so inspired by the team sales contest, but we still didn’t have a partner for him. You can pair with someone older, but doing so means you’re bumped up to compete in the older age division — and we really wanted Knox to stay in Prospector I for his first go-round.

But then we thought of the Thomas family.

We pulled Ashley aside and asked — would their youngest daughter be interested in being Knox’s partner for team sales? Could she memorize a short script in the 20 days before the National Junior Shorthorn Show?

Ashley smiled. “She doesn’t have anything else to do.”

Just like that, another event was added to Knox’s Junior Nationals checklist — and a new friendship, and maybe even a future teammate, was forming before our eyes.

While the kids soaked each other silly — and soaked themselves in the process — the adults convened under shade and obligation. We had our own meeting, this one focused on Junior Nationals. Opening ceremonies, equipment requirements, stalling preferences, contest deadlines — all the non-fun but absolutely necessary stuff that parents must handle to keep the wheels turning.

As we sat there, checking boxes and jotting notes, Catherine and I looked at each other and had one of those quiet realizations: our parents once did all this for us. The clipboards, the costumes, the chaos — it’s the same playbook, just a new generation reading from it. And now it’s our turn to do the showing up.

Catherine volunteered to help with organizing fun outfits for the opening ceremonies. (Because, of course, she did.) And while the sign-up sheets were circulating, the scheming picked back up — this time with Eric and Meredith DeBorde. We had Knox’s team sales duo assembled, but the fitting contest still needed bodies.

Funny enough, Catherine had once been on Eric’s fitting team years ago. Successfully “fake clipping” her way to a Top 5 Finish. So this felt like a bit of full-circle serendipity.

At Cattlemen’s Congress earlier this year, it was Eric’s son Brayden who helped Knox in the Grand Champion Drive — when Margie was tired, headstrong, and giving Knox all he could handle. Brayden stepped in without hesitation, steadying both Margie and Knox, and coaching him through the chaos with a calm only experience can bring. 

Catherine grew up showing with Eric — her first Junior Nationals was one of his last — and in that moment, it felt like history folding in on itself. The same family looking out for the next generation.

Back at the preview show, Meredith didn’t waste a second. She turned to her son and, with classic mom energy, said, “You’re doing it.” Then she spun around to Tony Brooks sitting behind her and added, “And your son’s doing it, too. Call him right now.”

I love that in the Shorthorn community, it takes about five minutes to build a team because everyone pitches in like family. Meredith promised to round up the fourth teammate without breaking a sweat.

And just like that, another team was formed, another contest added, and another story in the making for Junior Nationals.

As the banquet began, we found ourselves at a table adorned with old TJSA photos. One, in particular, caught our eye — a little blonde girl with one of her first heifers, Tempy. That girl was Catherine, and the photo was from her first TJSA Preview Show. Flipping through the scrapbook on our table, someone pointed and asked, “Is that you?” Sure enough, it was — one of Catherine’s three Junior National Champion Female wins.

Dinner was served, and soon it was time for the awards. The photography contest was up first. Starting from fifth place, they worked their way up. When they announced first place, it was Knox’s photo of Margie standing amidst Texas wildflowers that took the top honor.

Next was the speech contest. As they counted down from fifth place, we held our breath. When Knox’s name was called for first place, his face lit up with pride. All those hours of practice had paid off.

As other awards were announced, we watched Knox clap enthusiastically for his peers, genuinely happy for their successes. It was a proud parent moment — seeing our son not only achieve his goals but also support others in theirs.

Finally, the high point awards were announced. We had prepared Knox for the possibility that he might not place, given that he only competed in two contests. But to our surprise, his two first-place finishes earned him fourth overall in the Prospector I division. When his name was called, he slid his chair back and said, “This was unexpected.” It was the perfect end to a memorable weekend.

The Calm Before the Next Storm

After a celebratory snow cone at Bahama Bucks, we returned to the hotel and breathed a collective sigh of relief. We had done it. One of those if you know, you know moments — where all the prep, practice, and deep breaths come together, and you see your child stand a little taller.

Knox’s seven-year-old self was proud. And so were we.

The next morning, a mid-morning flight carried us back to the land of humidity, fire ants, and Brahman cattle. Reality, yes — but with a little more pep in our step. We’d done what we set out to do at the annual TJSA Preview Show. And now, the big one is right around the corner.

Less than 30 days until we do it all again — and then some. Lots of fun social activities. Arts and crafts. Poster. Showmanship. Promo video. Fitting. Team sales. Judging contest. Photography. Speech. Herdsman quiz. Quiz bowl. No rest for the weary.

But there’s something about doing all of this as a family — the early mornings, the costume brainstorms, the pep talks over fast food — that makes it feel less like a grind and more like a gift.

As I sit here finishing this article, Knox walks up, hands me a Hot Pocket, and says, “Here, Dad, you deserve this for a long day’s work.”

I don’t think a Hot Pocket has ever tasted so good.

Junior Nationals, we’re coming for ya.