Scottish Highland Cattle news

Anyone who has read this blog knows that a small herd of Scottish Highland Cattle live around the corner, and that I feed them our fruit and vegetable scraps. The cows don't like the heat and are bothered by flies in the hot weather, so they have been sticking to the shade or standing in the creek, or just lying down in a cool (sort of) spot and chilling. Yesterday, we took our three bags of scraps and set off for the cow enclave, which is three pastures, a bit of woods and sometimes the farmer's fenced area by the barn.

They were in the woods of all places! Yesterday was rainy, but not too hot. The woods are the sole place I can't feed them. On the main road with no place to park. We drove on by, and promised to return. A few hours later, we made the trip back. They were out of the woods and in a small pasture by the road, not one of the normal hangouts, but accessible. I got out of the car and waved the plastic bags of scraps. Either they know me or the drill, because they headed for the fence. Except one held back. S.O. said, "there's a calf!"

And indeed there was, a tiny newborn calf, all fuzzy and big eyed, lying in the tall grass. It took a moment to determine that The Shy Cow was a new mother, not Old Mama. The calf got up and galloped toward the fence. The mother, now christened Young Mama, bleated for the calf and let him nurse. This year's baby, now rechristened The Black Calf, ran and rubbed noses with the newcomer. Last Year's Baby can be rechristened The Blond Calf, and The Sweet-faced Young Bull can stay the same or maybe Daddy-O?

I had given up on a calf but now I have hopes that maybe Old Mama will produce one and we have enjoy two calves frolicing. Honestly, I had to restrain myself from climbing over the electric fence and doing a bit of a nose rubbing myself, the critter was so cute.

Photos will be forthcoming. Lots of photos. Grapeshot dotes on those cattle, esp. the young-uns.

Now it's off to the Charles River to look at some boats and try to figure out what would happen if someone very bad tossed a Molotov cocktail into the bow of one of them. Had to think and think about how to make a meeting of two characters turn into a big dramatic scene. Happy my life is not like my characters.

Onward,

Grapeshot