The two day bull calf was weak and not interested in nursing on his mother, a red Scottish Highlander cow. The mother cow's teats were too large for this little fellow to get in his mouth. If we didn't do something he would starve.
Carole Soule's blog
The black and white steer was clearly drinking sap from a maple bucket hanging from a tree pictured in a Facebook post. I thought that my cattle were the only “sap-sucking” culprits but, apparently, my herd is not alone.
After over two hours in the woods searching for the lost calf we all stopped. In that spot the smell of death was overwhelming. The calf had been here but it was obvious he was gone forever. Later, I realized I was smelling blood soaked ground.
“I want to see the Guinea Pig,” asked Mason. “No, Mason, it's a Mini Pig, not a Guinea Pig,” explained his mother. Mason, a five-year-old boy and his parents, were spending the night at our Farm House Inn and wanted to snuggle with Tazzy, our mini porch pig.
Charlotte knocked the tub out of my hands and coleslaw tumbled to the ground. She was clearly excited about the kitchen scraps I was feeding, so excited she acted like a pig. Charlotte is actually a seven hundred pound friendly sow who smells like maple syrup. She has lived at Miles Smith Farm ever since she dodged being turned into bacon three years ago.