There's nothing beastly about Dexter beef – in fact, it's divine, says Richard McComb.

It started off as a hobby so Michael Bancroft could see more of his wife and two children.

Michael, a contract milker, was working for a company selling animal feed and had to attend agricultural shows, which took place at weekends.

He and his wife Susan bought a couple of Dexter cattle with the intention of entering them into competitions.

“The only way I would see the family was to buy some cattle to show,” recalled Michael.

“We thought about Aberdeen Angus but they were £5,000 to £6,000 for show animals. Dexters were £500 to £600. That was the motivating point. It was a purely financial decision.

“Unfortunately, Dexters are a disease. When you get into them, you are lumbered with them. They are not like normal cattle. They are characters.”

The Bancrofts now have 180 Dexters at Church Farm, a 230-acre site of rolling green hills and valley-like pasture at Preston Bagot, near Henley-in-Arden.

They once had 220 cattle, comprising one of the biggest herds of its type in the country, but Michael, now aged 65, is running down the stock as part of a five-year plan leading up to retirement.

But there is no lessening of his passion for the breed and the wonderful, succulent marbled beef Dexters produce.

A sirloin, which I took home from the small farm shop and roasted a day later, was beyond compare. The Warwick butcher Rumps also stocks the Bancrofts’ beef. Lucky Warwick.

Having seen the conditions in which the cattle live, and the care showered on them, the quality of the meat was no surprise.

These are glorious beasts, the smallest cattle breed in Britain, and it’s not difficult to see why they attract such a loyal following. Dexters, originally from south-west Ireland, stand a little under or over a metre at the shoulder, and can be short legged.

Michael reckons they are about half the size of an Aberdeen Angus and are usually black in colour, but are also red or dun, a light tan.

After a couple of minutes at Church Farm, it was soon clear why Michael referred to Dexters as characters, although you might add “vocal” into the description.

As we approached a large shed, 40 calves aged nine to ten months surged towards the gate, emitting sporadic honking noises.

They thought we had food or were about to let them out for a late-morning roam.

I told Michael, a member of the Stoneleigh-based Dexter Cattle Society, that I had never heard such noisy cattle.

“Oh, these are quiet at the moment. Dexters are known as gobby,” he said. “You should have been here at the weekend. They were at it all night. What a racket.”

They are fantastic, pocket-sized (although you’d need big, well enforced pockets) cattle.

Michael said: “They are small animals so you get less meat. But, because of their size, people are attracted to them. The cute factor comes into it.

“The other thing with Dexters is that you cannot drive them. They will follow you but if you have 12 Dexters and you try to drive them they will go 13 ways.

“You can tempt them in with food but you can’t herd them.”

All the female breeding cattle have names with the farm’s prefix of Moonshine, which was chosen by the Bancrofts’ children, Mark and Mary.

The chaps, except the bulls, don’t tend to hang around too long. “They never get named,” said Michael. “Rump steak, if you like.”

Two females, Angel, aged three-and-a-half, and Twilight, six, were in a shed next to the rowdy calves.

I wondered if they had been put in the naughty room for playing up, but Michael explained the duo had particularly strong maternal instincts, a common feature of the breed.