Of all the animals on the farm, cows most easily lend
themselves to personification. They are large mammals with relatively complex
needs and relationships, and their heads are approximately at human eye level.
Recently, the intrigue surrounding the cows has been Bill’s
ongoing attempts to breed one of them. His priority is to assure that at least
one cow is milking next season. With the two currently milking cows running dry
in the next few months, this means that one needs to become pregnant this
summer.
First, the personalities:
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| DB doesn't take nonsense from anyone |
Boston- the dignified matriarch of the herd. She is old,
old (nine or more?), and a retired commercial milking cow. She has lived out
her retirement thus far at Hatchet Cove Farm giving birth once and milking
since.
Fluffy –
Boston’s son. Once he became too old to milk Boston directly, he was ostracized
from the barn to hang out alone on pasture elsewhere on the farm. Somewhat
lonely, and useless as a steer, he is set to be ‘beefed’ later this
autumn.
DB (a.k.a. PrettyShiny, or Big Lady. DB stands for Dutch
Belted, her breed.) – DB is the current darling of the cows. She was bought in
the past couple months, and is huge and beautiful, presumably with years of
fertility ahead. Her teats are irregularly sized, and her udder is covered in
long hairs. More challenging to milk than Boston, her milk is judged by some to
be vastly superior.
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| Fluffy the loner enjoys pasture |
(Nameless)
Calf – the adopted son of DB. When the farm purchased DB, the agreement
included taking this male calf. Male calves are not really of use to anyone
unless you need a bull (to impregnate cows), or want to train an ox (to haul
your things around for work or sport). Because of this, calves are sometimes
foisted on buyers of more valuable milking cows.
Cookie – the lapsed favorite. She was bought with eventual
milking in mind. Bill raised her to be accustomed to people and easy to handle.
This summer, she was sent to a neighboring farm where she lived for two months
on pasture, with access to bulls who would breed her. In a dramatic fall from
her previous stature, she returned not only not pregnant, but entirely unruly
and resistant to people. She breaks out of the barnyard to eat tiny spinach,
moans ferally, harasses the other cows, and resists approaches by humans. Not
only is she not pulling her weight, she is generally a nuisance.
Elton – a bull visiting from another farm, for the goal of
impregnating one of the cows. He is however submissive, unskilled, and timid.
He has demonstrated his lack of skill in mating, and routinely lets Cookie
browbeat him. He is also reportedly afraid of grass (preferring the safety of
the concrete barnyard).
Cookie was the first best candidate for pregnancy. Young
and moderately docile, she would release Boston from calf-bearing burdens. With
her failure to breed and fiendish conversion, however, no bets remain dependent
on her. DB was purchased in order to take the pregnancy mantle. The first time
DB went into heat though, was comic and unsuccessful. We would watch the
barnyard as the Elton uncertainly circled DB, who would occasionally mount him
as if in demonstration. Ultimately, though, Cookie bust in and threw everyone
for a loop by taking an interest in DB and repeatedly mounting her, apparently
to their mutual delight.
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| cows enjoy turnip leftovers- DB, Boston, Elton, Cookie |
DB went into heat again this week (unsurprisingly- between
Elton and Cookie there was never a substantial chance for pregnancy), and Bill
immediately borrowed a ‘proven’ bull (“Grata”) to visit for a couple days. As
Bill arranged the trailer containing the bull and the cows within and without
the barnyard, excitement among cattle and apprentices was palpable. DB mooed her
emotions to him, and he stomped and snorted intimidatingly through the grating.
Bill released the bull into the pen we closed the double-gate behind him. While
Boston stood aside (and Cookie howled her protests from the pasture), DB and
the Grata began to circle one another. Grata’s intermittent efforts at mounting
are often undercut by DB’s ceaseless circling, as well as his significantly inferior
size. Human observers are lined up along the gate, watching as if at a sporting
event. We chatter and spectate, simultaneously cheering on the underdog Grata,
and sympathizing with Cookie’s cast-aside sorrows.
Possibly almost entirely constructed by the observers, this
drama nonetheless defines human-cow interactions on the farm. One hand, they
are almost entirely our pawns, with their shelter, food, lactation, and
reproduction entirely under our control. However, there remains some room for
them to exert their own will. We can put a bull and cow in heat into a pen, but
if she resists then there won’t be a pregnancy. If it turns out she would
rather spend her time in heat mounting other female cows, then no one will get
pregnant either. While it’s likelier that we exist on the outermost periphery
of their awareness, it’s nice to take credit for and joke about the spread of our
permissive and gender-role-undermining culture.
To the contrary, I meant that farmlife, in its isolation
from the tangled mess that characterizes the majority of urban lives, exhibits
a superiority that feels unfair. Like cheating? But perfect.
