Chapter 5
‘When are you going to tell us where we’re going?’ I asked Mam as we travelled north in her car early on Friday morning.
‘When we arrive,’ she said, grinning.
‘Are we going to Edinburgh, Nanna?’ Maddie asked as we crossed the border into Scotland.
‘Not quite that far. And you might as well both stop asking because I’ve already told you it’s a surprise.’
She’d booked us all onto a relaxing experience so the first thing that had sprung to my mind was a spa day, but that didn’t tally with the instruction to wrap up warmly so I remained confused.
I’m not sure how she’d managed to convince Maddie to join us, especially after her less-than-positive reaction to us putting an offer in on the farm.
Hazelwick Farm was a little rough around the edges with several fences in need of repair and areas of the farm which were overgrown.
The roof and chimney of The Dovecote – the holiday cottage near the farmhouse – had been damaged when a tree came down in a storm and, although the roof had been patched to prevent further water damage, Anna had admitted they hadn’t found the time or funds to repair it properly.
The cottage needed more than a few repairs, though.
The furniture was shabby and the décor tired so it needed a complete refurbishment.
Much as the farm had stolen our hearts and we badly wanted it, Mam and I were in agreement that it was overpriced considering the work needed, so we’d put in a much lower offer.
It had been rejected, as expected, so we’d raised it slightly but made it clear that our revised offer was our best and final one.
That had all happened on Wednesday and we were anxiously awaiting the decision.
I longed for Maddie to buy into the move but I’d do it without her approval if I had to.
She was turning eighteen in August and leaving for university in September and I’d decided that I didn’t want to start over on my own in Berkshire when I had the opportunity to be around my family.
I needed this fresh start and so did Mam, and I was determined to grasp onto it tightly with both hands.
‘Nearly there!’ Mam declared a little later as we pulled off the A1 near the East Lothian coastal town of Dunbar.
‘Fetlock Farm,’ I read as she indicated to turn up a farm track. ‘Home to Scotland’s first cow cuddling experience.’
‘We’re cuddling cows?’ Maddie cried with more enthusiasm than I’d heard in a long time. ‘I’ve seen that on TikTok.’
‘Is it a good surprise?’ Mam asked her.
‘It’s an awesome one.’
I’d read about cow cuddling experiences and watched a few videos, always with the thought that I’d love to book myself onto one. I was a massive advocate of the healing power of animals and, even without the therapy side, I knew how soothing and relaxing it was to just be in their presence.
‘The warm clothes make sense now,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much for booking this, Mam.’
‘My pleasure.’
* * *
Fetlock Farm was a beef and dairy farm owned by husband and wife team Glen and Paula Naylor but a passion project of theirs for the past few years had been running cow cuddling experiences twice a week for eight guests at a time, using young Highland cows and retired dairy cows who were relaxed and comfortable around people.
Booked onto the experience alongside us were a married couple in their thirties, a man and woman in their sixties who told us they’d been best friends since primary school, and a woman in her late forties called Isla. Looking round the group, it clearly appealed to a wide demographic.
The day started with a talk about the farm and what had inspired the Naylors to introduce the cow cuddling, some important safety tips and a run-through of what to expect.
Paula explained that, while the majority of the Highland cows we’d meet were the gorgeous red colour with which most people were familiar, there were several other colours including white, brindle (black stripes on a red base), dun (brown), yellow (light blonde through to a creamy, sandy shade), silver and black.
She shared that black had been the breed’s original colour but it was said that, on a visit to the Highlands, Queen Victoria had expressed a preference for the red colour, leading to selective breeding and an abundance of Highlands of that familiar hue in the UK today.
I’d never heard that before and loved that I’d already learned something new.
The first activity was grooming and we were taken into a heated barn where four young Highland cows – all aged between six and eight months – were wearing halters and tethered to short posts, ready to be pampered.
We were given a long wire brush each and asked to pair up to rotate around them.
Anticipating that Maddie would enjoy the experience more if she was with Mam rather than me, I offered to pair with Isla.
I was used to grooming horses but the Highland cows had much thicker, longer hair requiring more effort.
Paula said we could stroke them too and that, while they weren’t big fans of their faces being touched, they loved chin scratches.
I tried that on our first Highland cow and loved the way he stretched his neck out, clearly wanting more.
Isla turned out to be a fascinating partner. As we groomed, I asked what had inspired her to book onto the session and she shared that she came every month. She’d been troubled by anxiety for years but it had become so bad a few years back that she thought she might have to stop working.
‘A friend booked me onto a cow cuddling experience,’ she said with a gentle Scottish burr, ‘and I swear I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life. It was a complete game-changer.’
I glanced around the barn at the other pairs – Mam and Maddie laughing together as they scratched their cow under the chin, the married couple taking a selfie with theirs and the two lifelong friends looking content and absorbed as they groomed their cow in silence.
This was only the warm-up to the main event of cow cuddling and already I was hooked, imagining setting up something similar at Hazelwick Farm.
If we got it. Which we absolutely would because it was meant to be.
Next on the agenda was what Paula referred to as ‘fluffy feeding’.
The rest of the young Highland cows were in a large shed next door, their heads poking through gaps in the external metal fencing, tongues out, eagerly awaiting snacks.
A couple of buckets of cylindrical pellets were ready for us and we were told that the best technique was to post them end first into the cows’ mouths.
I loved watching how they jostled each other out of the way to get to the food, reminding me of how the seven pygmy goats at Hazelwick Farm had shoved each other aside when we’d fed them on Tuesday.
As Paula had mentioned, most of the fluffies were red but even their coats came in a variety of shades. The way their hair tumbled into their eyes was adorable and the eyes peeking out from beneath their fringes – which I’d discovered were called dossans – were big and beautiful.
Paula and Glen introduced us to some of the older Highland cows before taking us to an enormous barn.
‘Inside this barn are our cuddle cows,’ Paula said, pausing by the entrance while Glen moved around the group, swapping our wire brushes for soft ones.
‘They’re all either retired dairy cows or Highland cross-breeds, selected because they’re friendly and love attention.
Most will be lying down, chewing their cud, but some might still be standing up.
You can brush them, stroke them and sit with them but what they really love – and what most of our guests find incredibly relaxing – is cuddles.
Once we’re inside, Glen will give you some tips. Are you ready to cuddle some cows?’
She added that hushed tones were encouraged to keep the cows and the guests calm and that we’d hear relaxing music being played to help with the ambience.
There were thirteen cows inside the barn and eleven of them were lying down. Glen sat down beside one of them, telling us to watch out for legs hidden beneath the straw, and rested his back against the cow’s side.
‘They’re really strong so they won’t feel any discomfort from this,’ he said, ‘but many of our guests prefer to get closer, like this.’
He changed position so he was nearer to the cow’s head and I had a warm and fuzzy moment as the cow turned her head and rested it in his lap.
As there were more cuddle cows than guests, we could rotate around them easily without having to wait for someone else to move on.
Being so close to them, feeling their strength and warmth, was beautiful.
I tried my hardest to switch off and relax but it was nigh on impossible when my mind was racing with how this could work at Hazelwick Farm.
I could imagine it being a hefty income generator because they could charge a premium for something so unique and it would bring in valuable income during the winter months because so much of the experience could take place inside heated barns.
There was a Holstein-Friesian – the familiar black and white breed which made up roughly 90 per cent of the British dairy herd – called Hyacinth who looked to be particularly affectionate.
She must have been one of Isla’s favourites as she’d been with her for ages but she finally moved on so I grabbed my moment.
As soon as I settled into Hyacinth’s side, she placed her head in my lap and I swear my heart skipped a beat.
‘Thank you for that,’ I whispered, turning my face so I could rest my cheek against her side. ‘It’s just what I needed.’
Cuddling Hyacinth, I felt so relaxed that I could easily have drifted off but, after a while, she moved her head.
I adjusted my position to look around the barn again.
Mam was sitting with her back against Bryony – one of the Highland cross-breeds – with her eyes closed and a smile on her face and Maddie had her arms around a brown and white Guernsey cow called Flossie.
She hadn’t snapped at me once since we’d got here.
Seeing her at ease, smiling and laughing, gave me glimpses of the girl I used to know.
I prayed that, with Carmen and Alfie no longer in her life, my happy, affectionate daughter would return to me once more because I missed her so very much.