Little Holly stares at me from inside the yard. She has a hay coiffure where she has pulled it from the rack onto her head where it sits like a jackdaw’s nest. I back through the gate so as to close it easier; she tries to force her nose in to the bucket that I am holding closed with my other hand. I am saving time by holding the scoop with chookie corn in the same hand, so she risks spilling it and sending me back to the feed shed to refill. Little Alice is hanging back still, but this pushiness from Holly means that Alice must be be starting to assert herself.
Alice is the more naturally adventurous of the two – it is she that forces her way into the section of the shed that is to house my new workshop, and she is the one making the trailer quake mysteriously by rubbing an itch as I am inside unloading. These days I give the two of them the freedom of the yard not simply the pen outside the shed. They relish the extra space and interest; testing the breeze for new possibilities.
This new freedom will build confidence like giving a child the run of the house: good preparation for schooling them in a month or so. Alice is a jumpjet of a calf, taking off at the slightest provocation. I need to work her inquisitive nature to develop a habit of co-operation if she is to stay on the farm as a breeding female.
I wonder if I should get a school-bell?