Barney and I went out to the barn last night after walking Zander home at eight o’clock. At the door of his house we ran into Loverboy, who accompanied us over to the barn.

He’d bolted out of the house an hour before, when his dad phoned to say there was a cow in labour. He moved so fast I thought there must have been some trouble. Turns out there wasn’t. When we arrived, there was one newborn calf that was still wet and wobbly.

All the chores had been done for the night, and Loverboy had time to chat with us as we watched the calves suck out their warm milk ambrosia or sleep in a rectangular ‘ball’ after filling their bellies. One had resorted to climbing up on his mother’s back to make her stand, but she wasn’t budging from her cud-chewing position on the floor.

Loverboy greeted each beast and scratched their foreheads, laughed at the hairy forelock on one and finger-dressed it in different styles, slapped their slabs of shoulders, displaying affection and familiarity. He told us about their character traits.

“She’s turned into a real good mom already, figured out what to do when it’s time to come in, goes straight into her stall.”

“Oh you, you can finish a bucket of chop faster than anybody.”

“This one here is going to lose a chunk of her ear. She’s the one I spent a couple hours out here drying her off in the middle of the night.” It had been 35 below, not taking the nasty wind chill into account, and she’d been dropped outside in the corral.

His favourite is obviously a little one who was, he said “as tiny as a newborn deer.” She’s still small. She’s feisty, and leaps about and kicks up her heels, and makes him smile.

They are sweet little things. But keeping them in the barn, where it’s warmer and sheltered, also means a farmer spends time with them in close quarters. They grow up unafraid of humans, and then at feeding time in the corral when they’re grown, they’ll bowl you right over in their hurry to get to the food. It won’t do you any good to stand there yelling and waving your arms when you’re directly in their path. They are focused on one thing and you better get out of the way. That’s almost two tons of hungry beastie. Even if they bump you with their heads accidentally when you’re standing beside them, it can knock you down.