I’m proud of my cow. Princess has never been grand champion at a fair or high-selling heifer at a registered Angus sale, and her comically over-sized ears will forever keep her off the cover of Drover’s or the Angus Journal, but she’s the apple of my eye.
If you follow this blog, you may remember that Princess overcome her angusial maternal protectiveness so that Hubby and I could help her enormous, crippled calf to nurse. BW’s legs are straight and sound, but he’s even huger now. At six weeks of age, he weighs in close to 280 pounds! Obviously, Princess gives plenty of milk—she doesn’t even mind little Gracie sneaking a few sips now and then!
This afternoon, two little girls from town, Anaya and Caterina, were visiting us with their parents and baby sister. (Their dad, who works with Hubby, had graciously volunteered to help us with our irrigation pipe.) The girls were excited to meet all the animals. They got a kick out of feeding saltines to the goats and petting Annabelle (see Mug Shots in the list of February posts), but the highlight of their farm safari was Princess’ big, slimy, scratchy tongue taking cake (cow cake, not people cake) from their outstretched hands. What a blessing that cow is!
I have only one complaint to register about Princess: she has yet to give us a heifer!
BW, at one month of age.