Scottish Highland Curious Bleu was king of the barnyard—until now

My husband and I own Miles Smith Farm. In my retirement, I train cattle to work in a yoke, pull a cart, and offer visitors the "Ultimate Cow Experience." Bleu, the longtime star of that experience, recently retired after injuring one of his horns.

His story began in 2012, when my husband said, "Laverne's newborn ran off into the woods." Two weeks earlier, another calf had wandered into that same forest. The coyotes found him before we did.

Searching hadn't saved that first calf, so this time, in the thick of my fear, something shifted. Instead of clutching the problem and trying to solve it myself, I turned to Laverne. I slipped a halter on her and let her walk into the woods alone. Would she disappear too? Or would she find her lost calf?

The next morning, I stepped outside to find Laverne and her calf standing side by side at the gate.

Because he was born under a blue moon that October, I named the calf Bleu and later wrote a children’s book, The Curious Little Calf Named Bleu.

Today, Bleu is a 14-year-old gentle giant. He caught his halter on a water faucet and struggled to free himself; our farm helper, Marianne, saw it happen and released him. All seemed well—until I noticed his left horn beginning to droop. Within two weeks, instead of pointing proudly up, it pointed down. Unlike deer antlers, which are shed each year, a bovine's horns are meant to last a lifetime. Bleu's horn is falling off, and the vet isn't sure what comes next.

He has lived a full life. As a calf, he traveled with me to book signings, stamping each copy with his tiny hoof. At two, he competed in a yoke at the Hopkinton and Deerfield Fairs. For years, he let children and adults alike hug him and feed him carrots. Now he's at the bottom of the herd, unable to defend himself, even against the yearling calves. Because the horn is so tender, I've given him a private field where he can eat, rest, and graze without being jostled. Bleu has been my companion since the day he was born, and it grieves me to see him in pain.

Meanwhile, Bleu's brother Finn has stepped into his role, welcoming visitors who hug him, walk beside him, and ride in a cart he pulls. One visitor said her anxiety vanished when she wrapped her arms around Finn. Bovines, with slower heart rates and higher body temperatures than humans, bring a calm, just as Bleu has done his whole life.

Bleu's future is uncertain, but he's comfortable and well-loved. Whatever happens, the quiet connection between us brings me peace.

Carole Soule is co-owner of Miles Smith Farm in Loudon, N.H., where you can have an Ultimate Cow Experience and hug Finn, a Highland steer. Carole can be reached at carole@cow-coach.com.