Udderly delightful: The health benefits of cow cuddling
As more evidence emerges showing the positive mental and physical aspects of animal assisted therapy, Marianne Heron decided to try out the latest trend in the field
In these Pandemic-changed times, availing of any form of feel-good therapy seems like a wise idea. The particular practitioner I am going to see has unusual colouring, with hair the colour of coffee macchiato and she’s a heavyweight in her field, tipping the scales at around 600kg. Nothing to concern Weight Watchers here because the lady in question is a Blonde d’Aquitaine cross called Blondie and her owner Fionn Sherlock has agreed to allow me to try the latest idea in animal assisted therapy (AAT) with her — cow cuddling.
The idea is to have a moooving experience by getting up close and personal with a cow. It’s on offer at a couple of farms in the Netherlands and the US, and I want to try the effect here in Ireland and to check that my bovine date and I are, as it were, cowpatible.
While I wait for Fionn to bring me across the fields near my home in Wicklow to meet Blondie, I watch the local farmer’s 100-strong dairy herd. They look the perfect picture of pastoral peace, grazing purposefully, heads into the wind. But within minutes, as though they were choreographed to do it, the entire herd have stopped tucking into grass and have lain down as one to chew the cud. Herd instinct in action perhaps and watching, I already feel a therapeutic calm creeping over me, but I can’t cuddle any of these cows as they have a couple of bulls running with them.
Blondie and her grazing companions look up expectantly as Fionn drives his
4x4 down the field to wherere his starter herd of beef cattle are standing and introduces us.s.
A large cow, Blondie is an impressive presence and turns her head to smell me, blowing her sweetsmelling cow breath on my hand (no methane involved, which happens when cows burp).
And there’s something very soothing about havingg such a powerful animal stay at ease as I stroke and scratch her, feeling her warmth as I lean up against her (cattle have body temperatures severall degrees higher than those of humans) It’s a bit like hugging an enormous teddy bear and induces a cosy sort of mindfulness. Days later, I am still taking comfort from the remembered sensations. In the peace of pasture, I can tell Blondie anything and she would simply listen, twitching her ears before continuing to ruminate.
The trend in cow cuddling, which is similar to equine therapy, started in Holland, where it is known as Koe Knufflene or cow hugging, and where it features as part of farm visits. Animal therapy has been found in various
‘It’s a bit like hugging an enormous teddy bear and induces a cosy sort of mindfulness. Days later, I’m still taking comfort from the remembered sensations’
studies to reduce stress and the risk of mental problems. It is also used as therapy wwith a number of different conditions, from depression to Alzheimer’s. Given the interest in diversification in farming, cow cuddling might be something that could catch on here.
Can you have a relationship with a cow, I ask Fionn. “One hundred per cent,” he replies. “It’s definitely a thing. They know when it’s me and when it’s my dad.”
His beasts can tell the difference between the voices of Fionn, who has just completed his studies to become an auctioneer at Bolton Street and his dad, blacksmith Denis Sherlock. They know Fionn best, for he comes to check on them several times a day, especially when a cow is near calving.
“I often lie down beside them to eat my sandwiches. They treat you as if you are like part of the herd. It’s like lying with an electric blanket. People say that cattle are about money, but for me, it’s a passionate hobby, I love it,” says Fionn, who hopes to specialise in cattle auctioneering at the marts.
He was given a calf 11 years ago — “that’s how I got started”. Now the starter herd he began with his maternal grandfather Johnny Gallagher’s help has grown to 10 and will soon be 11 when his other cow, Anna the Limousin cross, which he bred, calves. Blondie was his first cow and occupies a special place in his affections.
Now eight, Blondie has the kind of calm temperament that makes her a good candidate for cuddling (this is definitely not something to try at home or by yourself as cattle are unpredictable animals). “She’s a very good mother and she has just had her sixth calf,”
says Fionn. But where is the calf? I’ve been told that one thing you mustn’t risk doing is getting between a cow and her new calf. “She’ll have him hidden in a sheltered spot,” explains Fionn, and sure enough, when we drive around the perimeter of the field, we find the new old bull calf called Denis, named after Fionn’s father, lying in the shelter of a bank of brambles.
Fionn is worried that the new arrival may not be getting enough milk, so he calls to his cattle and they come trotting up the field, with Blondie and her calf calling back and forth to each other.
The next time I visit, together with photographer Steve Humphreys, Blondie has her calf with her and the clicking of the camera disturbs her calm a bit.
“It will be good when Anna’s calf arrives, then the two will be like friends,” says Fionn. Sounds like a good time for me to return for another cuddle. Meantime, I’m not taking up goat yoga — at least not yet.