Sunday, January 31, 2010


Paul and I are terrible, I suppose, about nicknaming our critters. All of our cattle have nicknames, but the  more trouble they get into, the more nicknames they get.

Case in point: Annabel, calf of many nicknames. They range from the expected "Annie" and "Anna" and "Annie Bells" to the odd, like "Fanbelt" (Paul's latest favorite).

Today she's been nicknamed "Stinkerbell." She's a sprightly girl on her good days, and other days she's downright mischievous. Today she's decided there's enough room in the hay ring to climb inside and hang out. We'd hoped she'd gotten too big for this, but obviously we were wrong.

Paul decided she needs to come out before she soils what remains of this haylage bale to the point Sheila and Bridgit won't eat it. He went out first with three apples, but that didn't work. She just looked at him while Bridgit and Sheila got the apples.

Then he tried grain, first in a bag, then a bucket. She just looked at him while Sheila and Bridgit did tricks for grain, and then he got suckered into feeding some grain to T-Bone, Lana and Natalie. Stinkerbell just continued to watch from inside her round domain.

She's still in there. And in case you might think, like we have in the past, "Oh, dear, she's probably stuck," she will amaze us in 2 minutes or 30 or 90 by reappearing like a normal cow, standing in a corner far from the ring feeder, chewing her cud. That's Stinkerbell for you.

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