Bog Myrtle & Peat

It made sense to pause in 2023. After eight years of calving, many of my cows were beginning to fall out of rhythm. Through no specific or systemic fault of their own, some had missed the bull and caught him a month later. One or two had lost their calves and then found it hard to get pregnant in the aftermath. It’s the farmer’s dream to have all their calves born in a tight little window – but as time goes by, individual biographies can expand into disorder.

To some extent, I can afford to let things draw out a little – but there comes a point at which you’re expecting calves to arrive in the herd anytime from March to August. It was getting messy, and in a more commercial operation, I would’ve pressed these cows into harder service to recover the time by force. For me, it made sense to stop and regroup. The bull went to work on other projects last summer, and most of my best cows were left to have the year off. I thought I was making life easier for myself.

I like to think I know my cows quite well, and I can walk around the gentle shape of each personality with a fair degree of confidence. Each beast has a clear sense of self, and it’s interesting to engage in a kind of dialogue with them. Most of my cows are simple, greedy souls with a steady heart and a capacity for forgiveness which verges on amnesia. Trick them into the pens one day and the injustice leaves no mark at all – they’ll do the same again tomorrow. Play the same trick on certain other individuals and they’ll express an outraged resentment which may take weeks to resolve. A few of my cows are anxious and need to be gently soothed into familiarity – a couple are mindlessly bold to the point of banter and bullying. I even have one old cow who is notable for her lack of gumption and intrigue. She has never had an original thought in her life. 

Working within these personalities, it’s possible to tease and provoke the cows into certain conveniences. I can push them around and draw them where I need each beast to be. I have confidence in this ability, and it’s far more effective than driving cattle with shouts and sticks as if they were bears or dinosaurs. But everything I know about these animals is based on a playing field of pregnancy and motherhood. Without a bull last summer, this dynamic simply does not exist in 2024.

There have been small and gradual changes in my cows over the last ten years. The wildest have mellowed and others have grown less tolerant of change. One cow who used to be fairly protective of her calves has gradually escalated her summer rage to the point that she is now more frightening than a tiger in the weeks before and after calving. I might even have to get rid of her on this account – but while she is unusual, almost all my animals have become more stubborn and set in their ways over the years. However, these gradual, predictable changes are nothing beside the hormonal turmoil of cows which have been left to run free of the bull for a year.

For a start, I notice that they fight amongst themselves all the time. As each cow cycles, she’s desperate to jump or be jumped by the others – it’s a stirring, unstable mess of aggression and suspicion, and no sooner has the herd been provoked to act in one direction, the most frustrated cow will turn on the others and break the continuity. Shy cows have become unrecognisably forward, and cows which usually have tremendous confidence are suddenly suspicious and retiring. Crucially for me, when I carry a bucket of nuts into the field to draw the herd around, the oldest and most reliable animals are nowhere to be seen. I’m approached by cows I’ve hardly ever handled, and even when they appear to want the smell of molasses, they’re often coming for the simple sake of marking the moment and making it their own. They don’t want to follow – they’re motivated only by a desire to prevent others from following. I think I find that the most challenging attitude, because it’s one thing to be overturned by malice or counterargument; you can nurse that frustration and make a better job of aligning your ducks next time. But there is no clear solution to defiance that is based on a moody, blank-eyed vacuousness which has no strategy or objective beyond its own pointlessness.

The change is crazily disruptive, and it’s become an active roadblock to progress and management. They’re like animals I’ve never seen or worked with before, and if I felt that I was making life easy for myself to give them a break from the bull, the outcome is actually far harder and more complex. They’ll receive the bull in two weeks and perhaps that will help to restore some order – but in the meantime I am disturbed to reach for old friends and find that only their appearance is familiar.