Our little bull calf is exploring his world. Two days ago, he seemed like he really wanted to come closer to us, to come and say hello, but he was a bit too scared. We were too far away from mom I guess. Yesterday he got brave and came right up and sniffed and licked us. Today, he is licking everything. Licking different plants his mom eats. Licking the fences. Licking my apron. Licking my hand. Licking the dirt I’m working in (putting in a new fence post) which leaves powdery brown smudges on his nose. Then he gallops around in circles.
We were visited by 1800 schoolchildren today, and he even went up to the fence and licked them from in between the pales. And somehow, either in his mind or mine, his work here at this museum became clear: he’s going to spend his life around kids, families, and guests to our museum, pulling loads and maybe even plowing. (Not bad when most little guys look forward to becoming a tasty steak!) He’s going to be a bovine interpreter, hopefully making it possible for kids (or anybody) to see what cattle feel like, or look like, or smell like; or for a museum guest to learn how a cow thinks. Hopefully he’ll educate people how the colonists used animal power to do things beyond the capabilities of their own musculature—moving heavy loads of wood or hay, taking stumps out of the ground, plowing (not to mention totally transforming the indigenous landscape into what it is today, but that’s a different post…)
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