Fall arrived today, or was it yesterday?!
This year saw the departure of all the beef cows.....all but my pet Butterscotch~ She is just the sweetest. Her mother abandoned her at birth, so we brought her to the dairy barn, and raided her with the dairy babies. So I guess it is really no surprise she is a real suck. I just stand by the fence and call her and she saunders over for a scratch~ Today she had a pretty little baby. I'm hoping it's a heifer, but think it may be a bull.
Marsha was my wonderful cow. She had been retired for four years and spent her summers in the pasture beside the house, where I could have little visits with her daily.
In the winter she moved to a lower pasture, where she could go in and out of the barn as she pleased.We bought her when she was five, and she was instantly a family member. The kids would ride on her back when they were small. Back when she was milking we would let the cows out each day to graze on pasture. She would have no part of it. She would stand at the side of the barn and stick her head in the windows until someone would let her back in. If noone was there to let her in, she would stay up by the barn all day. I'm not sure if she was anti social, or just lazy. I was so attached to her that the day she died noone told me, they were all too afraid of the meltdown that would surely follow. It was one of the few days I hadn't checked on her. Sixteen years old is a good long life for a cow, but too short for the farmer who misses her terribly.
In some wats she is responsible for me going back to painting. The overwhelming desire to capture her on canvas. I have painted her many many times, but always sold the painting, because I have yet to feel her there~
This painting is sold.
Marsha was my wonderful cow. She had been retired for four years and spent her summers in the pasture beside the house, where I could have little visits with her daily.
In the winter she moved to a lower pasture, where she could go in and out of the barn as she pleased.We bought her when she was five, and she was instantly a family member. The kids would ride on her back when they were small. Back when she was milking we would let the cows out each day to graze on pasture. She would have no part of it. She would stand at the side of the barn and stick her head in the windows until someone would let her back in. If noone was there to let her in, she would stay up by the barn all day. I'm not sure if she was anti social, or just lazy. I was so attached to her that the day she died noone told me, they were all too afraid of the meltdown that would surely follow. It was one of the few days I hadn't checked on her. Sixteen years old is a good long life for a cow, but too short for the farmer who misses her terribly.
In some wats she is responsible for me going back to painting. The overwhelming desire to capture her on canvas. I have painted her many many times, but always sold the painting, because I have yet to feel her there~
This painting is sold.
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