Sally

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Sally, circa Christmas 2009

Breakfast remains litter the table and I am cajoling my sisters into brushing their hair and helping me load the dishwasher. Brother swings the door open and calls out that he is going to feed cows. "You going to feed Sally?" my sisters ask. The answer is yes and they run squealing to find their boots.

Returning sometime later Madayln, red nosed and wild haired tells me how she fell off Sally's back. "She put her head down and started backing up real fast and I just slid down" she giggles. Oh, Sal-Pal.

My sisters started bottle feeding Sally when she was a tiny little calf. When Sally was weaned they still went to her daily, petting her face and adorning her with bells. She quickly outgrew bells and the barn but she still loves the food and attention of her dedicated caregivers.

"Sal-Pal is so nice!" They explain to me how the can touch her hoof, milkers and tail. This seems to be the criteria for a nice cow. "Milkers" is the delicate term referring to her udder. They demonstrate by tapping on Sally's hooves, lifting her tail and squeezing her milkers. "ooh it feels funny" they laugh, bouncing around her strong legs with carefree ease.

Sally doesn't herd well or do other cow things very expertly but she's a good friend. Nice to sit on and hug around the neck.