By Rhonda Bartle

It's a great day, a proud day, a sunny day not to be missed, when the calves, lambs and assorted pets line up at Pembroke School.

In a lush green playground, 8kms from Stratford, the mountain rises in the background as pupils parade their perfectly groomed animals around the grounds.

It's not often lambs and calves get their hair brushed to go out in public, but every year the combs come out in this school yard.

Though they're all winners, really, the best of the breed might go home sporting bright red sashes.

Often several generations of the same family turn up to see whose animal takes the prize.

Oldies sit on the sidelines, smiling at the youngsters as they try to impress the judges with their lamb calling or calf leading.

Babies in strollers watch from under their square canvas canopies as teachers and committee members arrange cups and prizes on an old school desk.

Principal Caroline Beissel takes time out from ribbon presenting duty to sit in the shade and explain exactly what calf day at Pembroke School is all about.

"The kids just love it," she says. "It's a trip into the past but it's a tradition here and the town kids love it just as much as the country kids."

A really pleasant place

Beissel's been at Pembroke School for 17 years. Her daughter went to school here and showed a calf every year for five years.

"It's just a really pleasant place to come to teach," she says without hesitation.

Three days of her week are spent in the classroom, with two put aside for the office administration which she also enjoys.

"They are nice children here," Beissel says as she peers at all the interested and interesting faces hiding under their sunhats.

"You can't eliminate all problems at school, but these are nice, well-behaved, well-mannered children.

"We have our hassles but nothing major. No big city hassles. Parents are so friendly; it's like a family because we all know each other well. It's things like calf day that make it so special."

Getting Ready: Cattle Breeder Ivan Wright has made his decision.

Kids do well at small schools

Beissel talks of how many of the rural schools have been amalgamated or shut down now, and how the role of rural education should not be allowed to change too much.

"Some children need to be in a bigger school and some who have not done well in a larger school come here and absolutely thrive.

"It's a good place to be. We've dropped one classroom but other schools have dropped two or three. We're really comfortable with two full time teachers."

The roll call at Pembroke School has almost halved in seven years, from 71 pupils to 42. Beissel hopes  - how she hopes  - that the numbers will remain stable or even rise.

As a principal and teacher, she's never held any ambition to be head of a super-large school.

"No. When you've taught in a school like this, and if you really love it, you see it has a special character, nature and charm about it.

"I'm happy. If you can look forward to going to school every day to teach children…well, I have no long term plans on moving."

Lambs on parade: Mitchells lifts his shades to see what's going on.

Watching from a seat in the shade

From her seat in the tiny grandstand, she smiles at the spectacle of parents, kids and four-legged friends stationed around the playground.

Some of the kids are barely head and shoulders above their charges. And it's an unwritten law here that you never eat anything with a name.

The Andersons have come to support three grandchildren, and there are branches of the Hay, Walsh and Bayly families everywhere  - at least three generations of Bayly men and a wife have attended Pembroke School.

Peter Bayly, chairman of the board of trustees is calling the results. He waits patiently while the judge finishes his inspection, to learn who has won Calf  - Senior Dairy Type so he can present the Jane Cup.

It's a poignant moment. Hilary Jane, with no children left at Pembroke School, is here too and holds her breath as the winner's name is announced.

The very first schoolhouse stood on her property further up the road. Only a ring of macrocarpas is left to mark the spot where the building was destroyed by fire.

The next schoolhouse built now forms part of the display of early buildings at Stratford's Pioneer Village. Restored and resplendent, it opens its doors to visitors with handbags instead of schoolchildren swinging schoolbags full of slates, pencils and books.

Lots of local support

The school is kept alive by local involvement. "See over there?" Beissel says, pointing a finger in a southerly direction.

"See that guy in the black hat with the blue shirt and his wife next to him? I taught their daughter when I very first came here and they've remained in contact.

"They live up the road and come to calf day every year. We've got so many people here today who haven't got kids at school, but they just come. Everyone is so at ease with one another."

A stranger can see, immediately, that she is right. Peter Bayly waits, while cattle breeder Ivan Wright gets up close and personal with a bovine ear, sliding a hand over hairy black and white flanks. Like the animals on show, he's dressed for the occasion in a smart navy blazer and cap.

Beissel says finding judges is not at all difficult, despite the number of outdoor and indoor competitions there are to enter.

"It's not hard to get judges. We do it on rotation  - a Friesian judge one year, an Ayrshire the next, a Jersey judge the next. And a vet did all the pets."

More than just livestock

And it's not just pets and livestock, either,that are commanding all the attention, but a gorgeous array of displays on the trestle tables inside.

First, Second, Third and Highly Commended certificates lean proudly on the paper tablecloth, announcing places for the Decorated Biscuits, Landscape Saucers, Vegie Monsters (with toothpick whiskers and proper cauliflower ears) while Vaseline Plates show off bright floral arrangements.

"I get a different person each year to judge the indoors exhibits," Beissel says. "I usually get someone who knows something about kids and takes into account the age differences.

"We make sure every child gets a prize. Some get four or five, but we always make sure everyone gets a certificate."

Pick your prize!

All prizes, no matter how they're won, are donated by businesses around town. This year pencil sets, drink bottles, torches and other loot has been laid out next to the shiny cups.

 "Pete does that," Beissel says. "He goes round and collects them all."

In the mini grandstand, the Principal smiles behind her dark glasses. Along from her on the same pew is a chicken in a box, owned by the Marriner family.

For the Pets section, they also brought one white cat with a leg in a splint and a dog that looks like sheep.

"Yes, I know," Mrs Marriner says. "We have very weird pets."

Though they arrived too late to make the judging, they don't seem to mind at all as they make bad chicken jokes. "We couldn't find a KFC box big enough to take it!

"Oh well," they say. "Better luck next time." Calf Day will come around again.

A kitten, a rabbit and a shaved cat

On another pew, Jasmine Roberts hugs her kitten Skittles to her chest while Tanaye Barron holds Frosty, an impressive rabbit.

A fluffy ginger feline with a shaved belly languishes in its cage, a sign on top telling folk everything they should know.

 My name is Tiggy
 I belong to Coby
 My birthday is 1 January 2005
 I like chicken, fish, cornflakes.
 I love Coby very much and like sleeping on his bed
 I also like catching mice and bringing them inside
 Coby's mother does not like it when I do that

A couple of senior pupils stop to rattle a tin of coins and show their money-making capabilities, with a long list of people who've taken sweepstake tickets at $2 a pop.

Because Calf Day is traditionally held on Melbourne Cup Day, it provides an opportunity to launch into a little gentle fundraising.

Later, the older kids will man the face-painting, lucky dip and sponge-throwing stalls in the hope of raising a little more to put towards their next school camp, but fundraising is deliberately kept low key. "Calf day is not about making money," the Principal says.

Artist at work: Alexis has her face painted.

What will the weather do?

Living in Taranaki means you learn to rely on the weather forecast being predictably unpredictable. Inclement weather is often a threat but Calf Day has never been cancelled or canned.

"Pete and I always have these long conversations, 'Shall we, shan't we?'" Beissel says. "But we always go ahead. 'Every year they discuss improvements but there is little they would change.

Then suddenly, she's on her feet and stepping down onto the grass. "Oh, I must go, now,' she calls over her shoulder. "There's someone down there in the next event who's new to all this and I want to wish him good luck."

From a spectator's point of view, at Pembroke School's Calf Day on 1 November, 2005, no luck was needed. It seemed a warm event from all sides of the stand.

Hold that tail down, girl: Kelsi with her prize-winning calf

The weather gods smiled, the mountain rose from the green carpet, the kids showed off their ribbons while lambs baa-d good-naturedly and calves mooed with contentment.

For old and new pupils alike - and visitors lucky enough to be invited - it was a grand day out in Taranaki.

So long, Pembroke School.