EEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh baby you’re so fine……..
drool, slobber!!!
Five Reasons To Have A Cow
Please note! By “cow,” herein, I mean cow {female} OR steer {castrated male}. Or bull, I suppose. Or if you’re like me, all three! I just don’t want to type cow/steer/bull/bovine/calf/heifer at every turn. Slap my hand.
It is my determination that a cow is a cross between a horse and a dog. This concept flickered to mind with Daisy, became an undeniable theroy with Sir Baby, and has been confirmed with Frisco. Dog + Horse = Cow.
1. Cows are smart. Somewhere along the way, cows were given the label of dumb beast and it is so far from the truth. Cows have incredible intelligence, especially in noticing and understanding patterns. Show a cow something a handful of times, and it becomes memorized.
When I got Daisy, I would gather her up from the field at roughly the same time each evening and lead her to the corrals for the night. A week or so into our time together, I got distracted and didn’t notice it had suddenly gotten late. Daisy knew. Daisy knew the time and the routine and she walked in from the far reaches of the field and stood outside my door and MOOOed, an insistent, un-ignorable, “Are we going to the corrals now, or what??” kind of moo.
2. Cows smell good. Cows do not smell bad. Maybe if they’re trapped in a feedlot they do, but that is a problem created by people, not inherent to the cow. Just as horses have a distinct and wonderful “horse” smell, cows have a distinct and wonderful “cow” smell.
Cows smell warm and sweet, like homemade pastry.
3. Cows are obedient. Daisy, Frisco, and Sir Baby all know their names. They come when called. They obey voice commands akin to a dog.
Sir Baby, my bull, comes up to me and rests his forehead against my leg when he wants a nice scratch. This is our “thing,” this is what we do. Last week, I was kneeling on the ground giving Houdini a belly rub and Baby lumbered over and rested his head against my shoulder in request for a scratch. I ignored him because I was with Houdini, and so Baby started nudging me with his head. Like, “hey, I’m here, did you not notice?” But however gentle, a nudge from a bull still makes you rock! I said, “No, Baby.” And he stopped, took two steps back, and waited for his turn. I don’t think this is abnormal. I think cows are really awesome.
4. Cows let you cuddle. I’ve always been a bit jealous of cats ~ the way they get to curl up in a person’s lap and be totally encompassed by another’s warmth and strength. With a cow, you get to be the cat. Because the cow is 10 times bigger than you are! It is an indescribably wonderful thing, to curl up in Daisy’s neck, or stretch out on Sir Baby with a good book while he chews his cud.
Cow therapy is the best therapy. Cows are love. You simply cannot stay in a hateful, anxious, or wounded state when you’re with a cow. Lean against a cow or brush a steer and your veins will soon course with love.
5. Cows have a secret bonus. Because of their massive size and strength, and because they aren’t terribly common as pets, cows can look quite intimidating to strangers. How cool would it be to have a 1500-pound steer guarding your home against intruders?!? He’ll even fertilize your lawn at the same time!
Ranger wears a candle
This is today.
A Lot of Bull
Let’s demystify the bull, shall we?
I don’t pretend to be an authority on animal behaviour; I’m not an expert. However, I have studied the animals with whom I directly interact and I am an expert on them. These animals include four adult bulls (not including Sir Baby, who looks positively miniature next to these guys).
Bulls have been given the reputation of villain, monster, evil beast with a
terrible temper, and it’s unfair. It maintains a certain mythology.
It is a stereotype.
While I’m sure mean bulls exist, the bulls I know are shy, sweet, gentle, and dear.
They move slowly around me. They never challenge me. If one or two get out and find a haystack in which to bury their enormous heads, all I need to do is sidle between them and the hay and they will turn back to the pasture gate I have opened behind them. They don’t smash me; they don’t toss me out of their way like a ragdoll in order to get more hay.
Testosterone does not make them mean.
Testosterone does not make an animal “become” mean!
Of the intact male animals I have known ~ be it feline, equine, bovine, canine ~ none have been mean animals. None have been mean to people. They are just really difficult to control when a cycling female is in the vicinity.
This is precisely why I castrated Frisco ~ I want him to be a working ox. I do not want him distracted by the cows or racing off to breed one while pulling me in a cart behind him. This is also the reason I neutered Charlie ~ so that he would not have to deal with the internal conflict of wanting to stay with his pack (us) and wanting to fulfill an urge to breed.
Bulls will fight eachother for breeding rights (as males of so many species will do), but during the rest of the year, when they are not with the cows or once the cows have all been bred, bulls live together harmoniously.
It’s not that bulls aren’t dangerous.
It’s that there’s a difference between dangerous and mean.
It’s that any animal this size can be dangerous if you don’t pay attention or let yourself end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I consider Daisy as potentially dangerous as these bulls.
And I consider these bulls as inherently generous and good as Daisy.
So next time you see a bull, blow him a kiss, won’t you?
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