My Divine Bovine
enna and her twin brother were born on a North Carolina dairy farm in 2018. Female calves with twin brothers are often infertile, so Jenna was set to be killed shortly after her birth. Fortunately, the dairy farmer’s 16-year-old daughter convinced her dad to let her find a home for Jenna instead. When Jenna was just three days old, I drove from
JWilliamsburg, Virginia, to Durham, North Carolina, in my Subaru to pick up the little calf. I named her after the wonderful farm girl who saved her life.
Jenna was so sweet and tiny curled up on a blanket in the car, and I was too nervous to stop during the ride home. Sure, she had a few accidents on the road, but nothing could dampen my spirits at having a chance to rescue this little girl.
I fed Jenna three bottles a day for six months and spent many nights in
the barn to make sure she never felt lonely. She loved to circle and chase me at bottle time. When it ran empty, she would headbutt my stomach to try to get milk out of me. I’m pretty sure she actually thinks I’m her mother.
Jenna still loves to play headbutt, where we put our heads together and push. She usually lets me win. Occasionally, she shakes her horns and knocks them into my head—and feels bad as soon as she realizes she hurt me. She has so much fun pretending our strength is close to equal, even though she could easily throw me across the yard if she wanted to. But she is always ready to break for hugs. Hugs are one of her favorite things. She’ll press her head into me and just hold the position for 20 minutes.
If I don’t come outside early enough to get her in the morning, Jenna will walk around the house from window to window and then stand on the back porch mooing for me to come out and play. She wants to be included in absolutely everything I do, whether it’s working in the yard (often to fix something she knocked down) or eating in the kitchen (where she watches through the window). When Jenna was little, I would bring her in the house for carrots. She no longer fits through the doors, so we feed her carrots through the kitchen window, our carrot drive-through.
I take her for walks around our city. Tourists always do a doubletake at the man strolling with a cow in a bright pink harness. Jenna loves to meet new people. She also gets to show off how she learned to “shake hooves” for alfalfa treats. She is so much like a puppy—a puppy who weighs over 1,000 pounds.
Mallory, my fiancée, actually lived across the country when she saw a video of Jenna and me on an animal rescue site. We began working together to rescue another calf, and Mallory soon came out to visit us in Virginia. She quickly won Jenna over. I proposed last August. Bringing Mallory into my life has earned Jenna the title of “wingcow.”
—Nominated by Ryan Phillips
Want to read more Pet Pals tales? See nominees at rd.com/petpals. Finalists will appear in our October issue.