FATHERS have been known to complain that when a newborn comes along their noses are pushed out. The dads that is, not the babies.

Same has happened here in the fold yard. Three new calves this week meant that we could no longer have a ton of passionate bull rampaging round the yard when the fancy took him.

He is not quite in splendid isolation, but certainly not in close contact with the cows any more.

Instead, he is bonding with a yard of young bullocks, none of whom I fear will be able to answer any of his more passionate urges, but who will provide him with companionship.

All lost on him, however, I fear. He is back to peering through the small gap in the gate that allows him a peep show into the main fold yard. And just occasionally one of the cows or heifers will peep back at him. But not often.

They have now been left in peace to wander in and out of the silage area and kip down on a nice comfy bed of straw without any of that male harassment disturbing them.

We have been waiting for the cows to start calving from the start of the year. And then, rather like buses, three calves came along at once. Two to heifers and the other to one of the matriarchs in the herd.

None needed any assistance which is unusual for the heifers, who on their first calving, frequently require some help.

Moving the bull could have presented us with a difficult logistical problem. If he does not want to go anywhere, there is not a lot we can do about it. He is a big lad. A ton plus of Limousin. Fortunately he is also generally a fairly docile brute. And even better for us, a greedy one.

Thinking strategically, John filled up the trough in the adjoining bulls yard with beef ration, the rolled barley, crushed beans and minerals mixture that the bullocks can access on an ad lib basis.

Then slowly walked the bull to an area adjacent to the gate between the fold yard and the bulls. He is not a beast that you attempt to rush, bully, jostle or prod in any way. And you never take a mature bull for granted. Especially in a confined area.

Indeed, we always keep the space behind some big stone pillars around the edge of the fold yard clear, so that in an emergency we can dodge behind them to get away from either the bull, or quite possibly, an irate cow.

Nipping ahead of the bull, John let the gate swing open. The bull spotted the trough full of grub and hastened his ponderous pace to feast on a luxury denied to the cows in the fold yard. They have the silage clamp instead. By the time the bull realised he had been had, the bolt on the gate clattered home.

Abstinence rules OK for the next month or two until all the new calves have arrived safely.