- I was excited to go cow cuddling after seeing so many Instagram Reels of cute cuddles.
- Having grown up on a farm, my husband was skeptical, but I didn't believe him.
I love watching videos about people who've made friends with farm animals. They behave like dogs with their tails wagging, always happy to see you and ready to be snuggled affectionately.
When I saw a cow cuddling event at a local farm, I knew I had to attend. I paused at the ticket's $150 price tag, wondering if it would be the splurge. The farm's website said that the five-month-old calves were rescued from slaughter and were being trained as therapy cows. The proceeds would benefit their training, so I felt good clicking the "buy" button.
My husband was lukewarm about cow cuddling because he grew up in a rural area. He said it wouldn't be like the videos, but I didn't quite believe him.
I expected cow cuddling to be just like what you see on social-media videos. But it was adorably anticlimactic once the treat bucket was empty.
My expectations were not met
I expected to be greeted by affectionate creatures behaving like puppies in a viral video, eager to play and thrilled to be petted and snuggled. I imagined romping in a field surrounded by calves and ending the visit lying in a grassy pasture, resting my head on a calf's shoulder and nuzzling its velvety-soft nose.
The cow-cuddling pasture had patches of dirt, scraggly grass, and no shade. It was over 90 degrees. I was willing to brave the heat to live out my snuggling fantasies. At the appointed time, the attendant handed me a plastic bucket containing a few handfuls of corn and brown nuggets. She ushered us into the pasture and the cows hurried over. I believed my dreams were coming true, until I was surrounded by calves urgently competing to put their heads into the bucket.
I laughed and tried to give each one an equal amount. They stepped on my feet. They jostled me. I held the bucket to my chest with one hand and patted their heads, which they ignored. I tried to scratch behind their ears, imagining them as large dogs. They were focused not on me but on getting their heads back into the bucket.
The cows wanted food and not cuddles
I was disappointed to find that cows, even ones you're supposed to cuddle, are not ready-made pets. They were excited about the bucket but disregarded my insistent petting and baby talk. I allowed them more food, just to have them near me so I could pet them. The longer I did, the dirtier my hands became. This was far from the cow cuddling I'd planned for.
When the food bucket was empty, the cows wandered to the other side of the pasture. I followed one who didn't want to be followed. I was hot. The cows weren't interested in affection. My husband stood near the fence holding my purse. I remembered that he'd warned me about this. I tried not to be disappointed when I told him it was time to leave. I told myself that they'd have loved me like the cows in social-media videos if only I could get to know them better.
On the way home, I realized the experience lasted about 10 minutes. I convinced myself that I'd called it quits mostly because of the heat, but it was really about fantasy cows versus reality cows. The animal videos I love watching never show the time and training it takes to turn livestock into friendly pets. I'll still watch the videos, but now I know it takes much more than a plastic bucket of corn at a tourist farm to make a cow your friend.