I was once gifted a Holstein calf by a dear dairyman named Karl Heinz. I'd never had a cow before, and at first I thought the great delight he showed was because of my profuse thanks. Not until Brownie reached ~400 lbs did I realize why he had been so full of mirth at giving me a cow. I didn't have a pasture, I had a small back yard. I didn't have any equipment, training, or practical knowledge of cattle, but Brownie was an Introduction to Cattle 101.
She was truly gentle with my then 4 year old son, and they gamboled about in the pasture I arranged for her like kittens with a ball of yarn - but she pinned me two feet off the ground against a barn wall with her little horns, once. I discovered then why none of the Holsteins I see hereabouts have horns. I learned that training cows to jump up into the back of pickup trucks wasn't as easy as teaching dogs to do it. Boy did I learn a lot!
I never did get her bred and milked, trading her off for a foundation under a commercial building about when she was old enough, but she was an impact on our lives I'll never forget. Pretty sure Karl was laughing at how well he convinced me I didn't want to be a dairyman.
Thanks!
Ha! That's a great story! We didn't have cows until we moved here and we definitely have learned a lot about them as well! We kept the horns on our holstein/jersey until my husband decided the points needed to be shaved down so she didn't accidentally gore someone. She still has horns and this new girl has some ground down horns. I noticed at the farm they treat the calves to keep their horns from growing. Sounds like Brownie had a good life!
After Brownie enlightened me as to her power, I at all times had a pistol on me when I or my family interacted with her, to prevent accidental goring. I suspect she was extremely aware of her power, and there was no actual danger of her accidentally goring anyone or anything. I couldn't swear to that on a stack of bibles, so I had the pistol. The next time she picked me up and pinned me against the barn wall, I pistol whipped her across the top of her head, where the bone is about 3 inches thick. Unlike my feeble wriggling and mewling protests, that did get her attention, and she stepped back and released me, shaking her head.
Thereafter she didn't pin my helpless wriggling (and presumably amusing) squeaky fleshtoy up against barn walls. Nuzzling me during feeding was mutually allowed, however. I never measured it, but I think the tongue of a cow is ~12" long, and she could stick it right down the back of my neck. That probably produced as amusing results as pinning me up against barn walls, for her. Cows are surprisingly playful.
Goodness I can imagine that she didn't do that again! And licking down the back of our neck! Ewww!! Ha! I always have in the back of my mind - Cows Gone Wild - like those commercials that used to come on TV - Dolphins Gone Wild or Sharks Gone Wild - where they attacked people. Ha! It's always good to keep their size into perspective. Even if they're gentle, they've got a lot of weight to throw around and accidents happen!