NOT ONLY CURIOUS, NAUGHTY TOO!

Making our way north to Queensland, we usually drive through a dairy district in Victoria near a little town called Mi Tiamo. I know! Mi ti amo, I love you! Such a romantic name for a town and not at all like some of the more humorous towns we encounter on our travels, like Tittybong, Wagga Wagga or Yarriambiack.

Usually we pass through Mi Tiamo in the early morning or late afternoon, just around milking time. The farms are divided by roads, so on many occasions we pull over when encountering a herd of regal Friesian cows making their way from the milking shed to the paddocks on the other side of the road.

I end up spending far too long watching and photographing these magnificent creatures ambling past the car, pausing to stare inquisitively into the window. The time spent is definitely not wasted, but inevitably makes us late for our destination.

Another of my favourite dairy districts is further south in the old volcanic region near the west coast of Victoria. Our friend John has spent his entire life on the farm at Carapook which his father established after the second world war.

John clearly has a deep affection for his cows. His respect is evident in the way he talks about them.

“You get to know the different ways the cows bellow. There’s a special ‘moo’ I recognise which they make when they’re doing something they know they’re not supposed to do.

“Like children, the cows love to push their boundaries, and when they know they’re being naughty I can hear it in their voice,” he says.

“They might ‘try it on’ if for example, they find a gap in the fence which someone forgot to fix. They will walk through and head off to ‘Downtown Carapook’ for the afternoon! But as soon as they hear me start my motor bike, they stop, then give that ‘naughty moo’ and look back.

“When I reach them, all I have to do is make eye contact and they turn and head for home.”

Recently I spent late afternoon at the Carapook farm in an enclosure with some two week old calves. Behaving as ‘curiously as cats’, they turned to examine me, the intruder.

While initially keeping their distance, gradually all the calves approached to investigate.

Before long they were following me around licking my boots, chewing the tails of my shirt and scrutinising my socks. They welcomed a rub on the chin and a scratch behind the ear, and soon began frolicking, jumping, bouncing, running and playing.

It was a magical experience and one which shows why farmers easily develop such a close attachment and genuine affection for their animals.

Mesmerised, I watched the prancing calves joyfully springing so high in the air as though attempting to jump over the moon.

I think I discovered in that moment the inspiration for the 16th Century nursery rhyme ‘Hey Diddle Diddle.’

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