Mrs Down's Diary- November 26 2008

This morning we brought the herd home. It went so easily that we laughed in disbelief at the speed with which the cows and their calves chased across the road and into the yards.

Geoff, John's brother, had come to give a hand, so John was behind the herd in the field, and Geoff and I blocked exit routes on the road. Although how either of us could have stopped the herd if they had really fancied a day out, I do not know. A little persuasion in the form of my flappy jacket was all I had and Geoff argues a strong case in Anglo-Saxon terminology.

The previous night John had closed the gate into the main spread of fields so that the herd was in the one closest to home. That is where the ring feeder with its daily dose of haylage is sited.

That morning, the herd had not been fed at all, but the silage clamp was opened up and the cows were literally hanging their heads over the field gate to catch enticing wafts of delicious compressed grass.

In previous years we have had to chase round the field to make sure that this year's calves go across with the main herd; today they were all there waiting. "Let's go" came the command as the gate was flung open and Go they certainly did. Straight back home.

Then this afternoon came the really tricky bit, separating the calves from their Mums. Bullocks in one yard, heifers in another. Not one of them willing to cooperate.

John had drawn two tractors up to create a funnel that would lead the bullocks into their yard, and also give me somewhere to retreat into if the cows got a bit panicky. And me. He drove small groups of cows and calves up to my end of the big fold yard, and then, on instruction, I had to swing the big gate open into the bullocks yard, jump back out of the way and then shut it again to stop any escapees once they were through.

At least that is Plan A.

In practice, cows and calves are none to keen to cooperate. They might be pleased to be back home again, but they certainly don't like to get separated form the main herd and hustled into an unknown yard. John and I must have been our full length at least three times each, John more, as the cows and calves decide to make a last minute turn and head back to the safety of the main herd. And I tell you when you see a big cow heading towards you with a strong calf in her wake, I would advise you to let her have her own way and plan another strategy.

So that is what we are doing now. Planning Plan B. The heifer calves. Over a soothing cup of tea.

In truth we have nearly all the bullocks in the yard we want, although we also have several cows that we don't, in with them. But that is not so difficult.

Plan C will mean separating the bull from his ladies and bringing him in for a few months of celibacy in the company of his sons. That's the bit I am not looking forward to. And neither, I think, will he.