THE ARRIVAL of Brian Cowen in the Charolais pavilion had quite an effect on the reigning national champions. While bullock and heifer maintained their composure for the duration of the Taoiseach's visit, they could scarce contain their excitement after he left.
Cleopatra produced a cowpat the size of Leitrim and Maximus kicked the bucket. A minute earlier, and not only would Biffo's eyes have been watering, but he would also have been the meat in a two-ton cattle sandwich.
Dusty in his good Dáil shoes, he had posed for photographs standing between the two enormous animals. Apart from Cleopatra trying to blind him with her swishing tail, the curry-combed duo performed immaculately for the cameras.
But immediately afterwards, flustered by all the attention, Maximus stood on a plastic bucket of nuts and gave himself a terrible fright. He leapt up and sideways, landing rump to shoulder against his female companion.
No amount of temporary adjustments would have saved the Taoiseach had he still been between them, and Enda Kenny's threat to provide him with "neither succour nor comfort" in the Dáil would have had a particularly callous ring to it today.
We were quite shaken on Brian's behalf as he proceeded, oblivious, down the main drag of the tented city at the heart the ploughing championships.
As far as he was concerned, the only possible danger was lurking on the other side of a small white van outside the IFA stand, and he had spotted it just in time out of the corner of his eye.
Accordingly, the Taoiseach sailed on past deputy Kenny, who was staring pointedly at him from above the wing mirrors.
A game of political dodgems went on for most of the day at Cuffesgrange in Kilkenny yesterday, as numerous habitués of Leinster House left their Kildare Street comfort zone to walk among the people.
Tánaiste Mary Coughlan performed the official opening to this year's event, which took place in uncharacteristic sunshine.
The ground was dry, the air was warm, wellies were not required and the only weather-related complaint was to do with the dust. Through which you could hardly discern the Tánaiste's heels, as she did a quick tour of State-related stands, called into the Fianna Fáil tent, posed with a sailboard and accepted a gift of mini-Christmas puddings from a wellwisher.
The former agriculture minister was on a tight schedule, meeting as many familiar faces as she could from the farming scene in a very short space of time. She couldn't afford to tarry, as her boss was waiting in Dublin for her to return in the helicopter so he could take his turn among the farming community.
Whoever drew up the plans for this year's tented village certainly had a sense of humour. Out of the hundreds of possible pitches, Fianna Fáil was located directly opposite Fine Gael, who were right beside a bucking bronco machine, not far down from Sinn Féin who were looking across at the Revenue Commissioners.
"Join By Text" said a big sign on the Shinners tent.
The FFers squinted across through the sunshine and dust at their rivals across the way, sniffing jealously at the media crush around Enda Kenny, who gave an al fresco press conference which seemed to go on for hours. In fact, Enda seemed to spend most of his afternoon giving interviews, still telling everyone that Biffo had blown the boom and everything would be better now if he had listened to Fine Gael back in, er, July.
This time last year, the political temperature was at boiling point. This time last year, Bertie Ahern was the main man and he arrived at the Ploughing Championships on the morning after he survived a no confidence vote in the Dáil.
It was also the day after Brian Cowen's "Loyalty is a virtue" speech in the House, which assured the leader of his party's support in spite of his Mahon tribunal evidence.
In the event, Bertie didn't last the 12 months although the supportive public reception he got at "the ploughing" might have convinced him he was still safe in the job for another few years.
Would the reception accorded his successor be different? Yesterday, the new Taoiseach had a brief walkabout among the crowd after he visited competitors in the ploughing competitions. He stood in a freshly turned furrow with his hands in his pockets and posed for more photographs standing on the steps of a tractor from Offaly. These things are important.
His wife Mary, who loves the fun of the ploughing, came along for the day. There was none of the manic rushing around that was the trademark of a Bertie visit.
He was given a hearty and warm welcome by the crowd, without the celebrity vibe that his predecessor brought with him.
That was provided by Charlie Bird, who was mobbed everywhere he went.
He had a pocketful of RTÉ pens with him, but forgot to hand them out. Which is just as well, as the two we stole didn't work.
Meanwhile, Enda Kenny continued giving interviews. In mid-afternoon, he was surrounded by a huge crowd as he talked about blowing the boom again.
When he finished, there was a big round of applause. Unusual, to say the least. Then the dust cleared, and Charlie Bird emerged. To be fair to Enda, he knew the applause wasn't for him.
Peace, of sorts, will descend on Cuffesgrange today, as the politicians have been recalled to Leinster House.
Maximus and Cleopatra will be much relieved.