Saying Goodbye

The night before they were to be picked up, I got all five of this year's calves locked inside the barn. They were upset and bawled for their mothers:

Their mothers stood outside the barn, bawling back at their calves:

I kept the calves supplied with hay, grain and water, going out to the barn every hour or two to be sure nothing terrible had happened:

Little Pearl, the youngest of the bunch, was not so upset that she'd miss a serving of molasses covered grain. Because she was so much smaller than the others, I kept an eye on her to be sure they didn't bully her away from the bowls:

The calves spent the night in the barn and I began my hourly visits again the next morning:

The calves were accustomed to me and recognized me as the source of their food and someone who had always been kind and gentle. They did not panic as I walked among them:

Nonetheless, they were still upset and things were tense, inside and outside the barn:

About 12:30 the next day, the man who had purchased the three oldest heifers arrived with his son. He had purchased Annie, Gladys and Loretta. He was also doing the trucking for the other two buyers, who had purchased Merlin and Pearl. All five calves are in the upstate New York/northern Pennsylvania area. Quality Red Polls are hard to come by in the northeast but growing in popularity as people learn about their exceptional qualities:

Pretty soon the trailer was loaded and they drove away as my dogs barked at them from their fenced yard. I still had a messy barn to clean and bereft cows to comfort and dry off. I gave the mamas only token servings of grain to help discourage milk production. All five calves arrived safely at their new homes and received a warm welcome from their new families. Still, though I was happy to have sold them to good homes, I felt sad that they were gone: