I’ve been spending a lot of time with the Jersey cow and her preemie calf. When viewed from the side, Rosie looks pretty good. At this angle, she still looks very pregnant. Or very fat. Whatever you call it, she’s still huge. I worried about bloat. I dreamed one night that by some freak chance she had another calf in there, still growing and biding its time until it could emerge like some alien space creature with big teeth and a raging, carnivore appetite.
When the snow covers the ground in a deep blanket of white, my world narrows. The occasional traffic on our narrow gravel road dwindles to none. An entire day passes without a single set of wheel tracks disturbing the snow. I...
Read MoreRemember what I said a few days ago? That I brought a bovine into the bathroom? It’s true. Today I’ve included the proof in photos for those who can’t believe any sane woman would bring farm animals into the house. Hmm, let me rephrase that. Today I’ve included the proof in photos that I brought […]
I’ve never wanted a bottle calf. In my experience, four-legged bottle babies are pushy, demanding pests. A few years ago I got a scary-looking hickey from a bottle calf that thought my thumb made a good pacifier. I’ve been bumped, shoved, and slobbered silly by half-grown calves that think humans are just part of the herd. And then along came Cocoa.
Cocoa came into our lives on a bitterly cold morning when the wind gusted through the trees and chilled every living creature to the bone. Weeks premature, she seemed barely alive when I found her. She’s stronger now,...
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