Forget the Camel's Nose in the Tent, I've Got a Whole Heifer in the Coop

In an earlier post, I tangentially extolled the benefits of humanely raising cattle. Yesterday I found one drawback.

My gorgeous heifer of Scottish extraction, an Ayrshire named Bonnie, is more canine than bovine in her devotion. She follows me all around the pasture, bellows for attention when I leave the house, and delays construction work on the barn by rubbing up against my construction crew (Dad and myself). This is all well and good - I enjoy her company and like to scratch her chin and cheeks.

But yesterday - oh man.

We have moved the chickens into their winter quarters in the barn - the chicken tractor (a possible future post?) does not provide enough warmth. At any rate, I stepped into the coop portion of the barn to refill their waterer and check on the chickens. Bonnie did not approve of squandering my attention on non-mammals, so followed me into the chicken coop before I could turn to shut the door. Her bulk pushed me back and was quite disconcerting for the chickens.

The coop is eight feet by six feet, with less walking space in the center because of the roost arrangement. A 230 pound guy and a 300 pound heifer take up most of that space. The chickens were frantic and I could not get her to turn around and push her out the door.

I finally had to squeeze out the door and call her from the center hall of the barn. She managed to get out without stepping on any egg-producers.

Still, perhaps I should scale back on her rubs and treats. This might have been much worse if she was at her full size of 1100 pounds.