As I said last blog, Maggie has turned into an ungrateful, unlovable bitch-calf!  The situation needs to be handled NOW. There is nothing more dangerous than a hand-reared animal—potentially weighing 1200 pounds—that has a bad attitude and no respect. 

So, yesterday I handed over some responsibility to the donkey, the horse, retired bull Rudy and the steer, Quinton.  They are kkind of like the gang in "Reservoir Dogs" (albeit minus the black suits and Quentin Tarantino's endless dialogue) or perhaps the Wild Bunch.  In the early morning, I lured Maggie in with a bucket of milk and managed to get her into the big pasture where this group of misfits reside together in pastoral harmony.   As soon as she saw them she panicked and galloped off into the distance. Fabulous.  Here goes my Saturday. But little ones are always curious and it didn't take long for her to see just how big and bad and ugly this group was. I knew they wouldn't hurt her, so I tackled other Saturday chores like finding where the cat had pissed this time and so on.

At dusk it was time to feed the beast again, but this time she came running up with her new family. She kept going behind Rudy, the immense Limousine bull, who, unbeknownst to her is her father.  What is she doing...Oh God!   She was busy trying to feed off him. I really don't want to get graphic here, but, suffice to say, this was inappropriate behavior (and illegal even here in the South) and Rudy was obviously getting annoyed. There was nothing I could do as I saw him raise his massive leg, which must weigh at least a hundred pounds, and draw it back to give a life-ending kick.And then, with incredible restraint, he controlled that kick so it was more of a nudge, just enough to stop her doing what she was doing.

It is at times like this that I really appreciate how much we can learn from these animals. Rudy has always loved the calves, and contrary to myth he is not vicious but loves to play and protect them. There is definitely a role that fathers play in animal groups and all too often they don't get a chance. Of course on a normal farm, a non-productive bull would be sent away, but normal and my life don't often collide in the same sentence.  I see Rudy as having an important role of protector, mentor and baby sitter. He is a gentle giant that deserves to spend the rest of his days, chewing that cud and remembering the days when he had twenty wives all to himself.