Maddie Moo, who are you?

I realized something this week. I think I’ve realized it before, but sometimes you forget even the big moments and have to experience them while you’re moving slower to fully embrace what you’re learning or experiencing.

Our farm is a driver of community connection, of friendships, of new relationships both socially and economically. It’s a space for kids to learn, and for our own daughter to make friends and have playdates. I know these are fairly obvious realizations, so I wonder then, why we don’t often understand or give full recognition to the animals’ connections while they live at the farm.

I often think about my relationship with our animals. I personify a lot and give our animals person-like qualities or emotions when telling stories and though it is funny, what is often funnier, is the interactions our animals have with each other.

Taking myself out of the equation and thinking about what I witness when I just watch and don’t interfere, it’s pretty humbling. The animals don’t need my friendship, hell, they might not even like me! I never even considered this before. Searcher for example, is a riding horse. I have not once, until recently, considered that some days, he might want to dunk me in a water trough just because he has an opinion about me, and maybe I didn’t bring enough cookies on a particular Tuesday. The idea that an animal we house, feed, water and clean up after at no additional cost to them personally, is hilarious and slightly disheartening.

When we had pigs, I definitely felt their ire. They’d laugh at us if we fell or jump around and bark at us when they wanted to play, but it was the vocalness of pigs that made me feel that they were expressing opinions about me. Most animals are quiet until they are talking to each other. The horses talk to each other more than they talk to us, and usually each species sticks to what they know.

There are always exceptions to every rule. Our British white cattle herd is mostly housed across Turner Rd in their own pasture. Two years ago we had our first bottle calf, and we named her Maddie. Maddie was born to a cow that we no longer own because her udder was too large for a calf to nurse on, which meant that Josh and I had to feed her babies. This wasn’t a good set of genes to pass on, but we have kept Maddie so far, hoping she got the smaller udder genetics from her dad’s side of the gene pool. I never thought I’d be discussing a cows breast size but here we are. Side note: you can buy udder supports which are basically cow bras..

Anyway, udders aside, Maddie was raised in the sheep barn and though we thought she would be lonely without other cows, she adjusted fairly well.

When it came time to wean Maddie, we thought we would wean her and then put her back with the other cows. One day we brought her down to meet her cousins and integrate her again thinking it would be this sweet reconciliation with the cows running to greet her, and her feeling so welcomed back by her long lost family.

This is not what happened. Maddie was terrified. Again, relationships take work, even in the animal world. The cows ran to greet her, and she ran away. The cows chased after her, all 32 of them. Her eyes were wild with shit spraying out of her back end. She ran and ran, ran through electric wires meant to separate paddocks, until the rest of the herd got scared and decided to return to eating. We left Maddie down there, trying to convince her to graze with the cows but eventually she got to looking kind of sickly. Josh and I tried everything, electrolytes in a bottle, Pepto for her belly, we even called the vet!

After spending lots of money and not being able to figure out what was starting to look like a chronic illness, we decided to bring Maddie back to the main farm where she could at least relax without being chased by the big scary cows. Within a day or two she was healthy as a horse again, the diarrhea and sad looks she was giving all went away and she would bounce and run around the pasture as a 500 pound baby, with the lambs who were closer to 50 pounds. Completely unaware of her size or species.

We decided in the end, that she had separation anxiety. Maddie missed her friends, a relationship, or several, that had nothing to do with the farmers. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a sheep, she had developed a place in the flock, even chasing Louise or head butting the rams. Now, her only issue is that she is a bit unaware of her size and Josh and I are having to train her about personal space. It’s one thing for a sheep to run up for pets, it’s another for Maddie to charge at you like a big dog.

So far we have not figured out how to fix this identity crisis. Is it a mistake? I don’t know. She’s living in a nice barn, getting better hay than the other cows and sleeps in a pile of straw with a warm guardian dog. I doubt she thinks an error has been made, though it might get pretty confusing during breeding season when we have to introduce her to the bull, but we have some time before that happens..

Since realizing our error with the sheep/cow relationship issue, we’ve raised our most recent bottle calf with other cows. Granted, they’re also being raised with horses, but I’m really hoping it won’t get as weird the second time around. Wish me luck.

Anyway, the farm store is open ( along the side of the red garage) and has plenty of books, beef, and lamb available. If there is a product you are looking for, don’t hesitate to reach out to us. We’re happy to help you find something specific for special meals.

See you at the farm,

Esme, Josh, Nori and Maddie the sheepcow