Update On The Red Poll Girls

What's new with the cows? Well, they shed their muddy brown, winter coats and began looking red again, glistening in the sun:

They've spent time in the north field and the south field. They're now being kept out of the north field, though, so the grass can grow as much as possible before haying:

The five of them are drinking as much as 300 gallons of water a day:

And they fraternize with the chickens:

I included this "rear end" photo to illustrate the whitish tail switch, a Red Poll breed characteristic and a quick way to tell them from Red Angus:

They have been nicer to each other this summer, with much less quibbling and struggling for dominance. Maybe that's because they finally settled the social hierarchy or maybe that's because they're so very well fed:

"Wanna see what's in my mouth? It's a grass soufflé, and I'll bet you wish you had some:"

The biting flies (of several kinds) became problematic and I felt so sorry for the cows that I got a pour-on fly repellent which helped a great deal:

The girls still get a bowl of grain every day. They don't need it, but it helps keep them tame and gives me a way to call them into the barn for the vet or artificial insemination technician:

Some cows prefer the shade on a summer afternoon:

But other cows prefer to bake in the sun:

They all like to graze in the lush, green fields. They apparently don't eat the buttercups, though. That's a good thing, if I can trust what I read on the internet, as buttercups are not good for them:

Romping In The Newly Cut Hay

I'd driven up to the farm with all six of my dogs and found everything looking darn spiffy. The south hay field had been hayed and I met the farmer doing the work. I discovered that I was two weeks late for the neighbors' pig roast. I'd taken a drive through the countryside northeast of my place and discovered European Frog-Bit. I'd tried to take the dogs for a walk across the newly hayed north field but, oddly, they didn't want to go. I'd spent the night in my apartment and woke up feeling like trying to walk across the hay field again, so off we went. This time the dogs were more agreeable to going and enjoyed it quite a bit:

This hay field had so much junk hidden under the grass that it had three times crippled the farmer's machinery and everything was on hold while repairs were being made. Most of the hay had been cut and spread out to dry in the sun. Seamus, Daphne and Clover were already having a great time in the field, but Fergus was still reticent. That's him beneath the tractor, refusing to go any farther:

But I suppose he could see the other three dogs romping and began to realize that he'd miss out if he continued to refuse to come with us. He tentatively approached us and then began to join the fun. This is the third time that one or more dogs have not wanted to venture into this field. Ghosts? The smell of the resident foxes?:

Clover, Daphne and Seamus were having a grand time:

Newly mowed hay smells wonderful and the dogs thought it was lots of fun:

Little Clover is growing rapidly now and this was a good experience for her:

And at the edge of the field were wild blackberries by the millions. The tenants told me that the farm's raspberry patch produced berries the size of strawberries in such heavy quantities that for about two weeks they could barely keep up with them. They told me that the talk of all the local folks is that this has been a major berry bumper crop year. Well, I may have missed most of it, but I enjoyed eating these wild blackberries:

I aimed my camera back at the farm house and barn:

And then at the neighbors' barn across the road:

The dogs stopped their silliness momentarily to focus on some arresting smell. It's a dog's job to investigate these things after all:

The two puppies had an especially good time. Watching puppies play is one of life's finest pleasures:

But the time soon came to return to the house and prepare to drive home. I did, however, take some videos of the playing in the hay field and will post them tomorrow: