Country Diary: Meet our new star of the show – Wesley | Environment

There is a man I occasionally meet on walks and whose way of looking at the world always amuses me. Last winter, when I would normally be complaining about the wet, he was thinking about how best to embrace it. He had made it to a welly puncture repair shop – if it ever opens, I'll be first in line. His instinct to adapt comes to mind as I wait for Dewi, our farm vet, to arrive. In front of me are a selection of brown cows – and among them is Wesley, a 16-month-old black Aberdeen Angus bull.

In the 'old days' we borrowed a North Devon bull from a neighbour for a bottle of whisky, but the introduction of pre-transport testing to combat tuberculosis brought complications and we had to start keeping our own. For us, this is a small farm with no buildings, which is a logistical challenge. We have to keep the herd in two groups to separate the bull from inappropriately young heifers. This is easier in summer when we can rent extra pasture, but with our increasingly wet winters we now risk disproportionately damaging two fields rather than one. So when I needed a new bull in May, I bought one that I knew I would use but not keep. And I chose an Angus because they are popular so it should be easier to sell. First, though, I need to make sure it is 'proven'.

“Have you seen him at work?” asks Dewi, gathering his overalls, arm-length examination gloves, and handheld scanner. I haven't actually seen him at work—the saying goes that you shouldn't see a good bull at work. Research backs this up, suggesting that natural conception mostly occurs between 10pm and 2am. But I did watch Wesley “mating,” and very early the next morning, noticed traces of semen in the vulva. Then I calculated the 21 days when they should have been in heat again but weren't, and waited another 21 days to be sure. By my calculations, he got them all, and they're pregnant between 48 and 62 days.

As Dewi confirms each “in the calf,” the star of the show gets bored and lies down. I'll regret selling Wesley, but maybe I can treat myself to a new pair of wellies.

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