Anyone know what else I can safely feed a cow as a treat, besides organic (!) apples, carrots and the odd pear? I don't want to kill 'em or make 'em sick, but I'm just curious if there's anything else in the fruit/veggie drawer that I can bring them. I suppose they are a bit like horses in terms of their food preferences.
Ridiculous eh, organic apples for a cow?! Like clover and hay aren't good enough for them! And of course, when I'm not stealing food from our family of two (unless you count pets, in which case we're up to a family of seven, but if you count the betta fish, it's eight, and if you count the fish pond, it's more like a family of 58!) to feed my bovine babies, they get those lovely fresh apples right off our neighbour's tree.
Ya know, I never realized how much personality cows have until I started this feeding regime. This is the closest relationship I have ever had with moo-pals (get your head out of the gutter.) They are really sweet, and man, are they LARGE. Their noggins are much bigger than horse heads. The Godfather would have had a hard time leaving a cow head between someone's sheets.
The other day I committed a cardinal sin and walked Tara (the English Setter) past my cow buddies WITHOUT BRINGING TREATS! Mama and calf came running over to me, and followed me as I walked along the fence. I apologized profusely, but they weren't impressed. Mama mooed loudly several times as I walked away. I am a BAD cow friend. Bad, bad, wicked, bad.
Here is a shot of me admiring Tara, who is NOT a cow and is unafraid of cows, and the cows are unafraid of her. On this particular day, we had stopped by the cow pasture. This picture was taken post-treat frenzy. I'm slipping it in because I think Tara is kind of cute for a 13-year-old, even if she isn't technically a cow. But I bet she'd make a good cow. She loves treats! And her saliva rivals that of a bovine. Note the drool hanging ever-so-delicately from her velvety lips.
PS: Brian, the cows miss you. They want you to come back!
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Sigh
Y'all know I'm going to die the day they take this calf away to make sirloin, right? Do you see how his head looks a bit wet in the photos? That's because he is still nursing part of the time and the milk makes his fur sticky.
No wonder I can't eat beef much anymore... if had to kill my own dinner, I'd be a vegetarian.
No wonder I can't eat beef much anymore... if had to kill my own dinner, I'd be a vegetarian.
Cows 'n' cheese
After we recovered from Brian's experience with the cows, dear hubby and I went to a wonderful farm out in Agassiz where they make unspeakably delicious cheese from milk obtained from their unspeakably beautiful cows. It's called The Farm House Natural Cheeses Ltd., and is located at 5634 McCallum Road in Agassiz. Two visits and we're addicted to their cheeses. No website, but you can search under "cheese" at:
http://www.bcfarmfresh.com/
and you'll find more info.
Anyway, near the parking lot they have a small pasture with a two cows, a calf and a donkey (!)
How beautiful is this face? (Okay, it might be cuter without the cud-chewing action. Mum always told me not to chew gum!)
And how can you not adore this little calf, peeking out from beside Mama?
If you're in the area, go! And make sure you buy some cheese. Our favourite is the stinky but luscious Alpine Gold cheese they make.
http://www.bcfarmfresh.com/
and you'll find more info.
Anyway, near the parking lot they have a small pasture with a two cows, a calf and a donkey (!)
How beautiful is this face? (Okay, it might be cuter without the cud-chewing action. Mum always told me not to chew gum!)
And how can you not adore this little calf, peeking out from beside Mama?
If you're in the area, go! And make sure you buy some cheese. Our favourite is the stinky but luscious Alpine Gold cheese they make.
Visitor from Toronto
It was an cow-packed weekend for us! (Well, not that our hooman friend here is a cow or anything. And I guess he'd be a bull, not a cow, unless he was one of those castrated bulls. What do you call a castrated bull again? Castrati? Nope, that's opera. Anyway, it's irrelevant because Brian isn't castrated. At least, as far as I know. He does have a deep, masculine voice. Quite a lovely voice, really.) Our most excellent friend Brian came to visit us from grey and dreary Toronto, and apart from being impressed by the spectacular spring in BC (if I do say so myself), he was most eager to experience the village cows up close and personal. So off we went, carrots and apples in hand (or more accurately, a plastic bag.) Here are my dear husband Gordon (love ya, honey!) and our good friend Brian, awaiting the
...COMING OF THE COWS!
Here, Brian bravely offers Mama cow a carrot. Such courage in the face of perceived imminent death! (Those bulging, crazed moo-cow eyes, those nasty sharp teeth...)
Natalie shows the Cow-feeding Virgin just how friendly these beasts really are. (Note the abject terror disguised by Brian's casual smile, and the way his hand is frozen in fear as he waits for it to be amputated by Mama cow's nasty, slicing fangs. I hope you're not right-handed, Bri!)
The calf decides that this time, Mama ain't getting all the treats! (By the way, Brian, cow saliva dissolves human skin on contact. Next time, wear protective suiting.)
Can some intrepid scientist measure the viscosity of cow spit for me? (That is, without the saliva dissolving said intrepid scientist, leaving behind a jiggling mess of guts and skeleton, and a pocket protector.)
Brian and Mama cow, speaking in tongues (those whacky Torontonians! Don't they know that this means "Yes, I'm a tasty apple!" in bovine-speak?)
Ah, I think we can safely say that Brian is no longer a Cow-feeding Virgin (I can't speak for any other kind of virginity), and with just a few tasty pieces of produce, he has managed to overcome his trepidation and be one with the bovines. In fact, I'm starting to think he's a little TOO "one with the bovines"!
(And a good time was had by all. Mama kept her fangs away from Brian's flesh, the cow saliva didn't dissolve my fleece vest [although it does need a good washing now], and we all lived to see another day. Brian has a new respect for the terrible, beautiful bovine.)
...COMING OF THE COWS!
Here, Brian bravely offers Mama cow a carrot. Such courage in the face of perceived imminent death! (Those bulging, crazed moo-cow eyes, those nasty sharp teeth...)
Natalie shows the Cow-feeding Virgin just how friendly these beasts really are. (Note the abject terror disguised by Brian's casual smile, and the way his hand is frozen in fear as he waits for it to be amputated by Mama cow's nasty, slicing fangs. I hope you're not right-handed, Bri!)
The calf decides that this time, Mama ain't getting all the treats! (By the way, Brian, cow saliva dissolves human skin on contact. Next time, wear protective suiting.)
Can some intrepid scientist measure the viscosity of cow spit for me? (That is, without the saliva dissolving said intrepid scientist, leaving behind a jiggling mess of guts and skeleton, and a pocket protector.)
Brian and Mama cow, speaking in tongues (those whacky Torontonians! Don't they know that this means "Yes, I'm a tasty apple!" in bovine-speak?)
Ah, I think we can safely say that Brian is no longer a Cow-feeding Virgin (I can't speak for any other kind of virginity), and with just a few tasty pieces of produce, he has managed to overcome his trepidation and be one with the bovines. In fact, I'm starting to think he's a little TOO "one with the bovines"!
(And a good time was had by all. Mama kept her fangs away from Brian's flesh, the cow saliva didn't dissolve my fleece vest [although it does need a good washing now], and we all lived to see another day. Brian has a new respect for the terrible, beautiful bovine.)
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