Enjoying summer’s critters

Dairy farming has pushed our limits a bit this summer, but the past couple of months have also been filled with an abundance of joyful moments. The critters who call our farm home have given us daily reasons to smile, laugh and revel in the miracle of new life.

The good thing about welcoming 66 calves in the past 12 weeks is that we’ve had all possible varieties born. While a good number of those calves have been standard black-and-white Holsteins and solid black Angus-Holstein crosses, we’ve also had some sprinkles of color: fawn Jerseys, chocolate Angus-Jersey crosses, blond Charolais-Jersey crosses, Milking Shorthorns in solid red and roan and a dark blue roan Shorthorn-Holstein cross. While doing calf chores with me one evening, Daphne summed it up perfectly: “It would be less fun if all of our calves were black and white.”

Upping the fun quotient considerably, we also have a litter of kittens in the barn for the first time in nearly 10 years. We had a couple of litters born in the sheds last fall, but finding kittens when they’re old enough to hiss isn’t at all the same as watching them grow from the moment they’re born. Tigger delivered her kittens on the straw under the haymow chute. Thankfully, she’s the friendliest and most chill mama cat ever, so she let us put her litter in a lick tub to keep them contained. We watched them open their eyes, take their first steps and climb their way out of the tub, all the while cuddling them whenever we had a spare minute. At one point just after they opened their eyes, Glen quipped, “If you can’t find me, I’ll be in the office chair, cuddling kittens.”

The kittens have now reached the age of maximum entertainment. They scamper through the pens in the front of our barn, tussling with each other and climbing the pool noodle we attached to the gate for them. My dad stopped in last weekend and, after watching the kittens during their peak play time, told us we could easily monetize content on YouTube with a kitten cam.

Like our calves, Tigger’s kittens came in all colors. There’s one solid orange tabby, one solid black, one solid gray and two brown tabbies. Tigger herself is a cinnamon torbie, so there have been numerous ponderings about cat color genetics and who all her baby daddies might be.

It’s also been nearly 10 years since we’ve sheltered a monarch caterpillar. We currently have three monarch chrysalises in our butterfly cage. Several years ago, a couple of milkweed plants emerged next to our front steps. Each year since, we’ve enjoyed the fragrant blooms, but the plants never hosted any monarch caterpillars. I figured the plants were too close to our house and too far away from other vegetation. This year, though, the plants have supported four caterpillars so far.

When I found the first mature caterpillar climbing up the stair rail, looking for a place to pupate, I decided I owed it some aid. I grabbed the butterfly cage from the basement and put the plump fellow inside. It promptly proceeded to the lid, began building its silk anchor, and was quickly hanging in the pre-pupation “J” shape. A day later we had a bright green, gold-flecked chrysalis. Glen found another caterpillar journeying up the railing, so we moved it to the cage, too. Not wanting to miss its departure, I moved the third one before it left the plant. If their metamorphosizing goes as it should, we should have three beautiful butterflies in 10 days or so. Monarch transformation truly is a marvel.

I hope you’re finding moments to admire your calves, cuddle your kittens or enjoy the beauty of nature in the fullness of summer, too.