I never thought I’d see the day when Scotland could advertise its cooler, damper weather as an attraction! But having spent the second and third weeks of August in the south of England, attending the documentary screenings and Q&As, I got a very strong sense of envy from audiences as we watched the rain cascading off the roof of our cow barn on those big cinema screens. My heart goes out to the farmers trying to make ends meet as they find themselves feeding winter forage in August and praying that enough rain falls now to enable the fields to recover enough to get a late cut of forage before winter thank sets in.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who shared the stage with me for the Q&As, and in particular Anthony Field of Compassion in World Farming and Ed Ayton of Abel and Cole. The screenings were so positively received, it gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, there could be a groundswell for change. That was until I set up my stand for cheese tastings outside The Seasons deli in Forest Row. There were a couple of days between the screenings in Henley and Brighton, and to fill the time I had organised some cheese tastings in the area. The weather was warm and sunny but with a refreshing gentle breeze. Behind my stand was the 3 by 2 metre high drape showing one of our cows grooming her calf with a list of our welfare and environmental achievements beside them.
My first visitor, a tall, lean young man, strode up and studied the drape. I offered to tell him our story, but he cut me short exclaiming, "I am a vegan and I find your presence here offensive!"
I was a bit gob smacked and before I could say anything about my vegan daughter or my plant-based best friend and how I understand very much the concerns that people following a vegan diet have, he had stormed off. To experience in real life the comments we've been receiving recently on social media was disconcerting, and I hoped that wasn’t going to set a trend for the day. Thankfully it didn’t, and all my subsequent encounters were very positive and at some depth. Those who know me know I can go on a bit on my favourite subject (our holistic, agroecological farming system), but people were very polite and heard me out! I don’t know if it did anything for our cheese sales but it was very enjoyable for me!
One of the questions people often ask at these things is, "Aren’t the calves more fearful of you now that you are no longer their proxy mum (when we reared them on milk from buckets, away from their mothers), and aren’t the cows more protective of their calves and aggressive towards you than before this cow-calf thing?"
I give two examples of what we’ve experienced as a result of ten years of cow-with-calf dairy. Previously, when calves had escaped from a shed or field, they’d high tail it down the road. Where they were going they didn’t know, but they were escaping!
Since we started cow-with-calf dairy, on a few occasions calves had got out, and indeed in the most recent case they’d escaped from a field a quarter of a mile from the farm steading in the middle of the night. On every occasion they’d head back to the farm steading, and we’d find them milling around the buildings. This is their home. This was where their mums lived!
Three weekends ago I had a dozen young women from a Glasgow choir staying at the farmhouse. They’d come for a couple of nights to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big smoke to do some singing in the peace of the countryside. I offered to take them down to see the cows and calves. Some were a bit anxious because if town folk know anything about walking in the countryside it’s, ‘You don’t go into a field that has cows, especially if they have young calves and certainly not if you have a dog. That can be fatal.’ One of the visitors had a dog which she offered to leave in her car, but I said if the dog was on a lead she could take it down to the field. I had my old dog Skye, and Pip the pup who I put on a lead as she can be a bit unpredictable, and cows certainly don’t like unpredictable dogs!
We got to the field and I said they could all come in but to stay quiet, stay together and move slowly. If the cows got up and shook their heads we could quietly retreat and no harm done. In the back of my mind I did sense this could all end badly, but it was worth trying…
As we entered the field, the cows and calves were lying, enjoying the warm sunshine. The cows chewing their cud calmly.
Here I was with twelve strangers and three dogs, one a stranger, walking into a field full of cows with young calves. Perhaps out of nervousness the choir began to sing. A low and gentle melody. The cows watched carefully as this strange ensemble edged further into their field, until cows and calves were round three sides of us and less than ten yards away. I began to explain the make up of the herd and what we had found from this novel way of dairy. Some calves wandered over out of curiosity. The cows watched but continued to lie there chewing their cud. They didn’t feel threatened, and to my relief behaved the way I thought they would. They showed great trust. The choir were blown away by this experience, I wish the young man from down south could have seen that moment.