Dogs are known for the soothing effects they can have on people of all ages. As a result, it is common to find them in schools, at senior centers, in libraries and even at hospitals.

Now, perhaps hard to believe, there are reports of cows and calves being used for the same purpose — not that a person would take them into public buildings.

I’m not kidding. I became aware of a “cow cuddling” business started by some entrepreneurs when I saw their story being aired on a television newscast. Then I read a magazine article about two more entrepreneurs doing the same. In both cases, people of all ages book time to cuddle with cows or calves.

Why? According to “cow cuddling” customers, time spent with cows is comforting.

Speaking from experience, I know that this is true. I’ve spent time around cattle for nearly my entire life. If I’m under a lot of stress, all I have to do is sit down on a bale of hay next to the corral fence and listen as cows chew their hay. After awhile, the stress seems to melt away.

Over the years, I’ve fed, trained and showed numerous steers and heifers that were gentle and lovable. As an adult, I’ve always kept some tame cows around.

They raised their calves, which were usually sold, but the cows stayed on the place, most until they died of natural causes. So I know how calming they can be. (I could probably do well with a “cow cuddling” business.)

One of my “cuddling cows” was Pipi. She was named for Pipi Longstocking, a storybook character. Pipi had a Hereford mother and a Simmental/Angus father. She was a brownish color with a white, speckled face.

Her mother had “bag problems” and couldn’t feed Pipi so I took over the job. Pipi grew up to be a big heifer so I kept her.

Pipi’s speckled face and cropped ears (a result of frost) gave her a stern appearance, but she was as gentle as could be. The first summer on pasture she led the herd of cattle through the gate and across the road when we changed pastures.

When she started having calves we discovered that she had some bag problems, inherited from her mother, so I left the calves to nurse on her but fed them extra as well.

One summer her calf was pretty big and seemed to be doing well so I weaned him off the bottle, let Pipi feed him, and they went to summer pasture with the others. I was concerned as to how he was doing so one day when we went to check cows I took a bottle of milk with me.

It was a hot day, and the cows were shaded up in the oak, chokecherry and serviceberry bushes. I got out of the truck and called the calf’s name.

retty soon I heard Pipi bawling. Then after a minute or two, here she came into the clearing with her calf behind.

He drank the bottle, but I needn’t have worried. He was doing just fine.

Another summer Pipi hadn’t calved yet so she stayed home, and I enjoyed her company — even cuddling.

Who could have known that, in later years, I would be writing “From Pipi’s Pasture,” named in her honor?