Every afternoon, on the sage advice of the all knowing one, Shane of Murwillumbah, we offer our boys a mix of molasses, pollard and grains in their special red bowl. They are addicted to this stuff so much that they literally gallop up the hill when they hear me or whoever else is feeding them, in this case, Taylor, banging on the side of the container.
This is the only time that the boys will let us pat them...both allow us to scratch their heads and necks and Baxter will let me pat his sides and rump as well. This means that when we need to apply some kind of chemical treatment, they are reasonably willing to accept the treatment.
Every afternoon, on the sage advice of the all knowing one, Shane of Murwillumbah, we offer our boys a mix of molasses, pollard and grains in their special red bowl. They are addicted to this stuff so much that they literally gallop up the hill when they hear me or whoever else is feeding them, in this case, Taylor, banging on the side of the container.
This is the only time that the boys will let us pat them...both allow us to scratch their heads and necks and Baxter will let me pat his sides and rump as well. This means that when we need to apply some kind of chemical treatment, they are reasonably willing to accept the treatment.
2 comments:
Those are exactly the breed of beasts that devastated our land - and they were two boys as well. Because they kept escaping they ended up on the chopping block (well, I don't think they use a chopping block at the slaughterhouse...;-), and have been replaced by a whole bunch of Frisean (I think) young cows...
oh really...well our boys are much better behaved and wouldn't dream of doing such a thing! We've had our own issues with stray cows getting into our paddocks and trampling plants and creating churned up turf with their heavy-hooved um hooves...
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