I love you so

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist 

One of our young family's favorite bedtime stories was Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are." It's the story about a young boy named Max who sailed to the island of the Wild Things. 

When it was time for Max to return home, the Wild Things didn't want him to leave and pleaded with him to stay.

"Please don't go", they said. "We'll eat you up, we love you so," but Max said no, and sailed away.

After I'd finish reading the story, and tucked the children into bed, I would lean down and pretend to gobble them up, saying "I'll eat you up, I love you so." They'd giggle, and we'd say good night and soon they’d be fast asleep. Even today, when they come to visit, their own children now in tow, I hug them tight before they head back to their own homes. I whisper into their ears that I'll eat them up, I love them so, and then I step back, and watch them drive away.

This now leads me to our little cattle. Over the years we have raised many pairs of cattle, all of which have been destined for the freezer. These animals have taught me the meaning of grace. I have always been thankful for the food we eat, but I am especially so since I've really come to know these gentle creatures. They gladly come for offered treats and eat out of my hand. Then, once they've grown and made weight, they easily follow me into the trailer. Our little horses run along the pasture fence, following along as their pasture mates head off into the beyond. I imagine the horses pleading "Please don't go, or at least let us go with you," but that is not to be.

I began to wonder. Perhaps I could find two miniature cattle, whose only purpose would be to keep our miniature horses company and to bring me smiles, and so it is that Frodo and Bilbo have come to live with us in our creek valley world.

Frodo is an ever so handsome orange-haired miniature Highland steer. Bilbo is his silver-haired counterpart. We brought them home just two days ago, and in two short days they have completely won over my heart.

Their hair is long, and in need of a good brushing, but I don't want to stress them, so I will wait. They are learning my call, and come running when I scatter feed in their trough, and even though they look longingly at my offered treats, they have not quite dared to eat out of my hand. I know it won’t be long before they do. When their heads are lowered to the feed trough, they let me scratch between their ears. I talk to them, and call them my sweet boys

Greg teases, and calls them Mini Burgers, Slider No. 1 and Slider No. 2, but I know otherwise. They are my pasture buddies, halter trained to go for walks up the road and along the creek. The horses might be a bit jealous, but not for long. I will simply be twice as healthy, going for warm weather walks with the horses followed by warm weather walks with the cattle.

Life is good. I will bury my fingers deep in their long coats and whisper, "Don't worry. You won't have to go. I'll eat you up, I love you so," and I'll watch them dance and cavort about the pasture, my little herd forever, however long forever might be.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com. 

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