When it snows, the four-legged barn children aren’t so very different than the two-legged little humans I raised.  Before the sun is high in the sky, they beg and complain and bounce about until given permission to race out the door  to play in the white stuff.  

Baby jersey calf running

Baby, our newest calf, can barely restrain  her excitement as I finish milking the excess from her mother’s generously sized udder.  Once that task is finished and the milk bucket is safely stowed out of the way, I unlatch the stall door, stand aside, and watch her go . . . across the barnyard . . . through the trees . . . back and forth . . .  

calf running

 . . . then turn around and go some more. 

calf running

They’re a lot faster than the children I raised.  That’s fine in the morning but not so cute at night when it’s time to go back into the barn.

jersey calf scratching

On the other hand, they don’t have to be reminded to zip their coats and there’s no mad scramble to locate lost hats and mittens.  And they don’t track snow and mud through the kitchen when they’re done playing.