Hunks Of Love

Hunks of love.
That’s what bulls are, to me, at least.

I was cleaning out my hard drive and found this picture from a year ago.
This is Rocky, one of the older bulls on the place. He loves a good scratch and some attention. I lie on him, too, but Baby is the only one I ride.

Little Porker

A little barnyard joke there, which probably no one finds as hilarious as I do.

But look at that chub!!!

She does not mind the snow, that is for sure.

Such a beauty.

Screenshot

happy new year!

I’ve been on a multi-species lovefest, which, combined with budding obsessions with new amazing projects has kept me away from the computer and has also caused me to be way late in starting THIS. But it’s not too late. Who’s doing it with me this year?

Turn, Turn, Turn

Two weeks ago, it was still autumn.
{five bucks you can’t spot Charlie}

Winter arrived.

And I pine for summer.

On Top of Sir Baby

If you’ve been following my tweets, you know my latest favorite is riding Sir Baby, my black angus bull.  I’ve been lying on him for years and one day, not too long ago, he started to get up while I was stretched out on him.  In the past, when this happened, I’d slide off him as he got up (or bear down on him and he’d stay lying down).  But I decided to stay on and let him get up.  And he did, and he just stood there, and I just sat there, and it was nice.

We did this again a few days later and then, one day, I went out to visit the cow crew and Daisy and Sir Baby were eating side by side. I stood between them and with one hand on Baby’s shoulders and the other hand on Daisy’s, I hoisted myself up and swung on to Baby. He stood there and ate for a while and we wandered around a little and he is SO COMFORTABLE. The fat and muscle and warmth and strength and breaths moving in and out…. it’s very different than being on a horse.  All those same elements are present with a horse, but the configuration is so different, even the breathing is different.  I love being on Baby.

Some day after that, I went out to get a log for my woodstove and saw Baby drinking at the trough. The trough is set under a small slope so I stood above him and glided onto his back.  He continued to drink, and then we walked up the bank and around the pasture a for a while.

Now, we’ve both gotten accustomed enough to my being on his back that I can go out in the pasture and hop on him ~ he’s just enough shorter than a horse that I can mount him with a jump from the ground.  Though, my first attempt at this was in no way graceful and it took me about three tries to get up on him while he patiently waited for me to get situated.  He’s saintly.

I don’t use a saddle or halter or reins or anything, obviously, and we’ve started testing our communication with eachother. He starts walking with two light slaps on the sides of his shoulders (like if you were slapping your thighs), and scratching between his shoulder blades makes him stop. (I have never tapped his sides with my heels as is common with horses.) Soon we’ll play with directions. Cows are different from horses in that horses move away from pressure and cows like to push against pressure, so directing his route, if I can at all, will probably be different than the methods used with horses.  I have no expectations of riding him to town or anything (I don’t think he’d particularly like town) but who knows. It’s just fun.

I tried to take pictures but my arm needs to be about four feet longer for decent shots; the lounging photo at the top was my attempt to streeeeeetch… Baby was like, “What are you doing up there??” His body extends about five feet beyond the frame (and that’s Fiona at the top of the frame and her slobber on my pant leg).