What the what?
"Mm-mm-mmoooooo!" There it was again.
Was it calves mooing in tandem, with one calf starting the "moo" as another ended?
Dunno. I renewed my grip on the bottle racks and continued up the hill.
Finally reaching the gate, I sat the racks down and began to unlatch the chain. I looked up at my soon-to-be show heifer, Michelle, just as the sound came again.
It was her.
Michelle - November 9, 2008
Spring-Run Swedmark Michelle, taken at around 2 years of age.
"Tim! Who's the new calf out of?" Swedmark. "Nice."
We had one other Swedmark at the time, a five-year-old cow named Dani. The milkers called her "Giraffe" because she was easily the tallest cow in the herd by at least 3 inches. While I couldn't tell yet if this speckledy heifer was going to be big, the resemblance - at least in spot pattern - was definitely there.
However, where Dani was more of a red base with white speckles, Michelle was definitely white with red spots. But looking at them, you could tell they were related - actually, a few years later, both Dani and Michelle were at the fair, and people would walk by and comment on what they thought were a dam-and-daughter pair.
Michelle was born in early November, and if I remember correctly, it started to get cold early that year. My initial thought upon hearing her faltering "moo" was that it was brought on by cold, but no, the stammer remained until she hit about a year old - at which time, I suppose, the frequency of mooing drops off. (Up until this point, I think calves, much like children, moo just to hear themselves talk, and after about a year they only moo when it's absolutely necessary to communicate a message.)
Since Michelle, we've not had a single calf that has ever stuttered out a 'moo'. I'm pretty sure that if cows had an ego, Michelle's would be huge - she already thinks that she owns the place (and all the feed on the place, for that matter) and if she knew she was unique in that respect, she'd be completely insufferable. She's close to intolerable as it is...
Michelle is a huge three-year-old cow now, at least 4 inches taller than most of her herdmates, and bossy as they come. She's always been a little high-strung, but we thought that when she calved for the first time that her energy would slack off a little - with most cows, calving for the first time calms them down a little. However, if anything, Michelle is more high-strung than she was before.
Whereas most everybody could halter and lead her around when she was a heifer, now I'm the only person who can singlehandedly catch her and lead her from place to place, which poses an issue at fairs - where we have small kids acting as "runners", leading cows and calves to and from the wash rack. Michelle just drags them everywhere.
I was doing chores by myself the other morning (being on break from college has some drawbacks) and Michelle was laying in her usual spot beside the alleyway pen. She saw me coming and instantly tensed up - as much as she loves going to fairs, she absolutely despises being caught. I turned on the water hose and let it run, filling the calves' water bucket. I then turned and said, "Hello, Miss Michelle."
Her eyes were saucers. Not very often do you see the whites of a cow's eyes, but boy oh boy, could you see hers. She tried to act like she hadn't heard me, but cows aren't known for their superior acting skills. I slowly walked up to her, hands out to show that I had no halter, and managed to get in one pet on the neck before she jumped up and jogged to the opposite side of the barn, where she stood, looking at me, for the duration of my chores in the back of the barn. I can almost imagine her sigh of relief when she saw me leave.
The next few mornings were close to a repeat performance, although the second morning, she simply lay there, stiff as a board, while I stroked her neck and face. On the fourth day, she actually grunted in pleasure when I scratched under her throat. She was definitely still suspicious - I told you, this cow is paranoid, with a capital 'P', when it comes to being swindled into being caught - but she was starting to enjoy the petting.
Now that my sisters are on break from school, my chores in the back of the barn have (thankfully) come to an end, and I'm back to feeding my bottle calves, as is the norm. I kind of wonder if, on the fifth day, when my sister took over those chores again, if she was waiting to be pet.
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