Grey Devil

 I used to think that a cow was a cow was a cow.  When I was younger our commercial herd had a lot of variety -- Hereford, Charolais, Shorthorn, Gelbvieh, Angus -- and I didn't think much about each breeds' unique qualities.  Sure, the Angus were fierce mothers and our Hereford bulls were big ol' puppy dogs, but nothing stood out as too unique.  That is, until I went to the sale yard with my parents.  A pen of purebred Brahma pairs, from God knows where, came through and all it took for my Dad to start (and end) the bidding was for my Mom to say, "Those are pretty."

I learned how different one breed could be the first time I went to pet a new Brahma baby and heard its mother emit a growl that would have scared off a wolf pack.  The Brahmas didn't mingle much with the rest of the herd.  They never seemed to go near our bulls but they, like the Longhorns we purchased later, seemed to conceive through osmosis.  The Longhorns are amazing for finding feed and we keep a dry one around just because she is the best lead cow we've ever had.  If there's a blade of grass to be found, she'll sniff it out and take the whole herd to it.  The Jersey nurse cow we got last year is like your Southern Grandma -- sweet and kind and will feed any straggler who needs to be fed.  And then there's the Belties.

I haven't quite figured them out, to be honest.  We were warned about how protective they are of their babies, but tagging calves in our purebred Angus herd has made me pretty fearless and so far I haven't been steamrolled by a Beltie mother (I can't say the same for the Angus mothers).  Moving them can be like herding sheep: they'll bunch up together and run until, on some secret signal, they'll all scatter in different directions.  We've yet to own one that's truly mean, but we've had a couple that would prefer to be as far away from people as possible.  One in particular has been especially shy, which is a nice way of saying she's a real ass.  She has a name, but I just call her the Grey Devil.

Honestly, I've never been a fan of her.  We've talked about getting rid of her, but when you're in the process of building your herd, letting go of even one is a tough decision.  Or it used to be a tough decision until last week.  Like I mentioned, we've yet to have a mean Beltie, but the Grey Devil is close.  She's single-minded.  If she wants to go in a particular direction, she will, despite what's in her way.  And when she decided she did not want to go into the stock trailer, her only other option was through a gate I was trying to quickly close and then straight over Regina, who was standing in her way.  If you haven't seen her Instagram post (@crown.h.cattleco) showing her cuts and bruises she received from being body slammed by 1400 pounds of bitchy-bovine, it's worth a look.

Just as every breed might have a few "quirky" qualities, within each breed there are always bad apples.  Some cows are just jerks.  I'm getting used to the uniqueness of Belties and the more I learn the more I like them.  Except for the Grey Devil.  She's for sale.