Dexters are mystical creatures. They have teleportation super powers. They steal hearts without anyone seeing. And they somehow make you chuckle amiably even when you think you're irritated.
This guy is Delbert.
His face probably tells the whole story, but I'll explain it any way.
Delbert is Delilah's steer calf that was moved to the weaning pasture yesterday. He's plenty old enough to wean. He's plenty large enough to wean. He can see his mama and interact with her at the fence, so he isn't cut off from her presence. He has lots of friends to play with in his new herd. And he has all the food and water he could ever want.
But Delbert is not happy.
Delbert wants to go back to his mama in Cabernet's herd. Delbert wants his fresh, warm milk. Delbert wants his mama's undivided attention. Since Delbert's farmers seemed immune to his mooing requests to be reunited with his dear mama, Delbert decided to find a way back to mama himself.
Delbert's journey landed him in our yard.
On the wrong side of the fence.
I'm tempted to believe he got in our yard through the the doggie-door our Anatolies use to access the western pastures. The door is now slightly askew.
However, when Delbert tried to go BACK through that door to rejoin his new herd-mates (I watched his efforts with rapt attention), he somehow didn't fit. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Delbert didn't come into our yard through that doggie-door. Maybe Delbert is just magic.
He certainly looks WAY too big to fit through that small door.
Belle and Blaze barely fit through it themselves.
Who knows?
Delbert certainly does, but he's not in a secret-sharing mood.
We needed Delbert to go back where he belongs, so we coaxed him the long way around, through the old barn yard. He followed us to the new barn for feeding time, so I know he isn't starving himself in a weaning protest. I even saw him playing with his friend Max when I came back to the house after chores, so I know he isn't isolating himself in complete despair either.
Weaning time can be stressful. The other newly-weaning steers have adjusted to their new life just fine. But I've been farming long enough to know, "there's always that one."
Today, Delbert is "that one."
He has now resumed his mooing protests and he's eyeing the doggie-door again.
We may have a few more "taking Delbert home" adventures until he settles into his new herd.
But I can't even get irritated at the little guy.
When his soft eyes look directly into my heart, all I can say is.
"Oh Delbert!"
