The Life Of Wild Cows | Full Documentary

This is not the prairie. It's a pasture in southern Germany. Almost 300 cattle live here, outdoors year-round, because the farmer just wants the best for all of his cows. A cow wants to be free. It doesn't want to be pestered by humans, imprisoned, tied up, castrated and all of that nonsense. Cows don't want all that. 35 years ago, the forebears of these cattle were permitted to leave their stalls and take over the meadows again. Of course, there were plenty of sceptics who said, that's impossible, they're crazy. But then we saw it was working and developing in a really good direction. How much nature still lurks inside this livestock? And can wild cattle really conquer the challenges of their environment? This is a story about a unique experiment. In spring, calves are born nearly every day. In a quiet spot, away from the herd, this little one arrived in the pasture only hours before. His mother watches over her calf as he takes his first steps. Licking creates a strong bond between the two animals. This is important, so they don't lose each other in the herd later on. A calf must have milk almost immediately after it's born. So its first job is an urgent one. Finding the source. The direction is right, but it can't suckle. The udder is huge and the teats too large. A legacy from when this cow's forebears were bred specifically to produce milk, as many others are still today, and the calves reared separately from their mothers. The calf must drink soon. The clock is ticking. Below the Hohenzollern castle at the foot of the Swabian Jura, lush meadows spread out at 600 metres above sea level. Divided into different pastures, some 90 hectares of it belongs exclusively to the wild herd. Unlike stabled livestock, these cattle live together in a herd comprising cows, calves and bulls. The farmer is no longer interested in their milk. They are reared exclusively for their meat. Not far away, the little village of Balingen Ostdorf is where their owner lives. 76-year-old Hermann Meyer takes care of his cattle every day. I'm a factor that's always there that they know. It's not like I can actually read their minds or know exactly what they're thinking, but they all like me, I can tell. And they have a very positive attitude towards me. This is important when he has to intervene. A mother cow can be dangerous, but this cow accepts Hermann and his daughter Annette. So both of them can now try and help the calf finally get to drink some milk. First, as required by law, the new member of the herd must be registered. None of the cows here has large ear tags as they could get ripped out, causing pain. The alternative? The animals can also be identified by a code number on a chip injected into the rump. The mother cow can sense that something's happening to her calf. Annette is permitted to lead the little one to the cow's udder. There, she shows the calf where it needs to look. It doesn't work without assistance, even in this wild herd. At last, the calf finds the teat and drinks the so-called colostrum. The first milk a cow gives after birth. It's full of essential vitamins to strengthen the calf's immune system. The cow trusts Annette and doesn't need to fear that she will take her calf away. This happens in many other agricultural concerns, but not here. In spring, there's still not enough greenery to eat, so the farmer helps out. Dried grass from last summer is brought out. Concentrated feed additives are taboo. The nursery calves use the delivery as bedding too, not just as feed. And the newborn calf has found its playmates here. All the young animals spend most of the day together in one place, while their mothers graze in the surrounding area. This is how their wild ancestors did it. It's only when they get hungry that they call for their mother. Cow and calf recognize each other from afar by their voices. At close range, smell also helps the recognition process. In a large herd, cows sniff out their own calf. And if a strange calf forces itself on another cow, it's soon rejected. Time for a drink. Calves generally nurse for eight months, some of them even longer. But not every mother wants to put up with it for longer. And make sure that's clearly understood. Cow and calf strengthen their special relationship. While many calves rest in the nursery, some of the mothers do unusual things. Party animal? The costume doesn't stop the animals from picking an argument with each other. But that's not a problem here, as the open pasture means they can get out of each other's way. Unlike in a cramped store. Fully grown cows must eat at least 50 kilograms of grass a day. After a short while, the pasture no longer provides enough. This would not have been a problem for the ancestors of the wild herd. They would simply have moved on to the next field. But these cattle can't. Their world is limited by fences. If their feed starts to run short, they get restless. The cattle begin to gather at the exit to their pasture, calling the rest of the herd to join them. A deterrent electric wire still separates them from the fresh pasture. But help is at hand. Hermann Meyer knows what to do. The cattle take over the new pasture energetically, seeking out the best feeding spots. There are indications that cows actually recall where the tastiest plants grow. Only the inexperienced young animals hang back. They don't yet know where to go, so farmer Hermann has to give them a hand. The more freedom you give the animals, the better they develop, the more comfortable they feel. They just feel better. They regain their innate character. They're proud. They're independent. And there's an enormous strength that emanates from the herd. You can't even imagine it. There's something there. It's hard to describe. It's simply the power of nature that's reappearing here. Bulls and cows stake out their territory by wallowing in the ground. This is display behaviour for their fellow creatures, because not all the animals in the community are friendly. Disputes can break out over the best feeding places. The cattle's main activity is eating. They're very good at it, wrapping their flexible tongues around the greenery and pulling it into their mouths. But eating a lot means drinking a lot too. As most pastures have no natural water source, farmer Meyer has to supply his herd with water. Without feed concentrate, the cattle grow slower than those kept in many stalls. But according to the farmer, this makes their meat taste better. Cows have to drink a lot to digest their plant fodder. At least 50 litres of water per cow every day. Now the herd has everything it needs right here. There are no cattle in Meyer's village or on the farm anymore. The idea of leaving them out in the pasture was actually born of necessity. Hermann and his daughter Annette remember it well. When he took over the farm from his father, there was not enough space or fodder in the stall, and farmer Meyer felt sorry for the imprisoned, tethered cattle. So he just left the animals outside all year round. The field experiment began with 25 red-pied cows in 1982. And in the village, they all began to say, he's a loony. We've known that for a long time, of course, but now he's finally lost it. He's not right in the head. You can't just leave all these poor animals outside in winter. And it was so astonishing that they began to display their natural behaviour again quite quickly. They'd all been languishing. They really were chained up slaves. The first time we let them out into the pasture, they didn't know that they could also eat the grass they were standing on. They didn't know. At the beginning, Meyer had to establish a selection process to support the animals who still had their old mothering instincts and could give birth to calves more easily. In this way, the herd gradually grew into one big family. And even though it's not really clear who's the leader, they agree unanimously on when and where they graze the pasture. As their eyes are located on either side of their head, cows have a wide field of vision, so they can see what's happening in the herd. From a bird's-eye view and in time-lapse, the herd's extraordinary ability to walk in an orderly fashion can be seen clearly. For seemingly no reason, a migration begins. Several of the cattle start it, and the others all follow suit. Their wild ancestors probably roamed the steppes in expansive circles, but in the rather limited pastures, this herd has developed a zigzag course. Studies show that the average cow walks six kilometres every day. With breaks, of course. Over the years, the cows' instincts are not the only things that have been reawakened. Their appearance is also more reminiscent of their aurochs' ancestors, or Uhr in German, hence the herd's name, Uria. Unlike in most stalls, this wild herd is also horned. The cattle's crowning glory comes in many shapes and sizes. Researchers believe that the animals can recognise each other by the shape of their horns. Hermann Meyer allows his cattle's horns to grow, although on many other larger farms, they remove them from the calves by burning them away to prevent accidental injury. More and more of this herd's cattle now have a headdress that points upwards, like their ancestors. The farmer isn't afraid of the potentially harmful weapons sported by his charges. He moves among the herd with quiet assurance. He claims never to have had an incident with their horns to date. When we walk through the herd, their horns are not at all dangerous. The animals don't want to gore us, and they have a tremendous sense of feeling with their horns. It's definitely not as if they don't know how wide they are. Exactly. So horns aren't dangerous, absolutely not at all. Meyer is accepted by the herd, but strangers ought to think twice before climbing over the pasture fence. A life spent outdoors may seem wonderfully close to nature and animal-friendly, but it does have its drawbacks, especially when the weather gets warmer. One of these is the flies. These annoying pests target flaky skin and secretions, hunting for feeding and breeding grounds. The buzzing insects give the cows no peace. The results? Lack of sleep, stress, illness. Susceptible cattle can lose weight, putting them at risk. But the creatures of the wild herd are robust and defy the pesky irritants. Wagging, shaking, beating. Their defense arsenal is limited. What can they do? Just put up with it all and endure? Some parts of the body are easy to reach. Using gymnastics and their agile tongues, an experienced cow can get relief. Every calf learns this quickly. But many also take advantage of any available external assistance. But however relaxed a cow's life might seem, it's no unadulterated paradise. Farmer Meier lives from his herd. He sells the animals meat. This means he must slaughter two carefully selected animals every week. He's designed a special transportation trailer. Meier takes the cows by surprise when they're eating or resting. While still in their familiar surroundings, they are first stunned and then killed. It's not my best day, definitely not. But anything else would be cowardly. The alternative would be to call a livestock dealer, load them up and not care what happens to them after that. I can't do that to the animals. I think we have a responsibility right to the end. Having to shoot an animal means overcoming the aversion, of course, but there's no avoiding it. An animal must be sacrificed so that the herd can continue to survive. That's just how it is. Meier's method spares the animals unnecessary fear and panic. The farmer discreetly transports the dead animals to the butcher. He's certain that the other cattle are largely unaware of his actions and therefore don't regard him as an enemy. Out on the pasture, life and death coexist side by side. The herd copes with the losses and in summer moves to the orchards. The cows can graze just as easily in pastures with very short grass. Even when flowers are eaten by the herd, they grow back a short time later. They offer sanctuary to insects that can barely find food elsewhere on intensively farmed acreage. Most calves are born in the early summer. Annette Meier visits more frequently then, because with their history as bred cattle, the animals can still experience problems. The Uria cattle come from the Fleckvieh, or red pied breed, that were bred to have very coarse bones. And the calves often had big, thick joints, which made it difficult for the cows to push them out. And I have the impression that when you let the animals return to nature, everything's easier. We see that very often. I always get the feeling that the herd is improving all the time. And the calves are more finely boned, so that giving birth is easier for the mother. Around a hundred calves are born here every year in the open. This one is only an hour old. The mother urges her offspring to stand up immediately. Newborns are precocial. They must be able to walk on their own straight away. Because their ancestors walked a lot, roaming the steps with their herd in search of food. Instinctively, the calf searches for its mother's teats. But she is still exhausted after the birth and needs a break. Time for the little one to begin its struggle with gravity. Bystanders are interested in this new member of the herd. And this young bull takes his rough play a little too far. Maternal instincts kick in, and the cow protects her calf from the bully. A good chance for the calf finally to get down to business. The calf drinks around 8 litres of milk a day. But already in its second week, it will begin to nibble at herbage as well. Till then, the milk gives the calf everything it needs. Apart from fluid, also fats, carbohydrates, protein and minerals. Annette Meyer greets several of the young animals and makes herself popular with the grown-up cattle at the same time. This is important to ensure that she is accepted by the herd. After eating, it's time for a siesta. The hard cell walls of their plant food are difficult to digest. Now the cows let microbes in their stomachs go to work for them. They have four stomachs that work like fermentation chambers. And it goes like this. Regurgitate. Grind. Masticate. And swallow. Wait a bit and regurgitate. And repeat. Regurgitate. Bon appétit. And when everything has been digested, they get rid of the rest. Unlike in a cowshed, a dinner plate-sized cow pat can stay where it is out here. It creates its own universe, attracting insects while it's still warm. Dozens of fly and bug species now use the cow's waste as a feeding and breeding ground. The blue bottles shuttle between dung and cow, where they harvest moisture from its mucous membranes. The pests are an irritant, but help is in sight. Starlings are always hungry for insects. And entire colonies of these songbirds are now on the hunt for food for their offspring. From the air, they target the wild herd's field as a suitable spot. On the ground, they peck at the maggots hatching from the fly spawn. Carnivores and vegetarians enjoy the rich bounty of the field side by side. They feast for the little two-legged and big four-legged creatures. The blue bottles might think they're safe while on their hosts. But for a tasty treat, no adventure is too risky for a starling. They board the cows and get to work on their sideline as facial care experts. Their involuntary customers seem to welcome the attention. A win-win situation for both cow and bird. Starlings profit from pasture-grazing cattle. Especially when they're near the cows, they can eat their fill and then return to their offspring and roosts. The cowpats dry out quickly and disintegrate. After a while, they're only noticeable on the meadow because plants grow higher around them. Cows will only graze some distance away from old cowpats. With dung, food and heavy footfalls, cows create special habitats that provide a home for many species. Cow pastures create especially fertile soil. The plants here attract birds and insects. The goldfinch enjoys pecking at seeds. Cow pastures are becoming increasingly rare in Germany, as more and more often, cattle are obliged to stay in stalls all year round. But the colourful meadows where the wild herds roam are not exhausted by intensive cultivation and treated with chemicals. Healthy food, but also blazing sunshine. Although the paler parts of the cow's body reflect the sun's rays, the skin underneath the white areas of their summer coat is extremely sensitive to light, and the animals can get sunburnt. Instinctively, they leave exposed areas and seek shelter from the sweltering heat. Trees at the edge of the field are natural sunshades. The cows rest in the cool shade. They have to get rid of the heat generated by the high level of digestive activity in their stomachs. As they can't sweat, they breathe faster and pant, bringing down their body temperature. Some shady trees have tempting titbits for the cattle. For acorns, it's even worthwhile stretching one's neck muscles. As hoofed mammals, cows are also distantly related to giraffes. Acorns and oak leaves contain tannic substances, though, that can lead to poisoning and sickness in cows. As with many delicacies, it all depends on the amount consumed. Heat makes one thirsty. The cattle are drawn to the little stream that runs through one of the fields. It offers a good place to cool off. The experienced cows go first, followed by the younger ones. On a hot summer's day, a cow can drink up to 150 litres of water, so it can produce enough saliva for its digestive processes. For the herd, it's lucky that these fields are so well supplied with streams, trees and valleys. This helps them get through the hot weather that nature itself will eventually bring to a close. The cattle are exposed to the rain with no protection. And the heated atmosphere also makes the insects more aggressive. This cow was stung on the nose by a wasp. Cattle don't mind the rain. It's cooling, cleanses their coats, and they enjoy the resulting juiciness of the grass. Only when it starts to hail do some of the herd seek shelter under the leafy covering of the orchard. As soon as the sun reappears, the cattle gather again out in the field, all except one. Farmer Hermann Meyer finds a calf, frightened by the storm, hiding in the bushes, and takes it back to its mother. The cooling-down process triggers more activity among the herd. Hormones make the bulls go crazy. The herd males huddle together in conference. A good opportunity for Annette Meyer to show off her skills. She's eager to see what's going on in the herd, and who will get together with whom. They definitely don't view me as a lead cow. I think they view me more as a part of the herd. And sometimes I believe they also think we have to watch out for her a bit. But it is a really trusting relationship. The farmer ingratiates herself with apples. She uses this ploy to gain the trust of cows and bulls alike. Oh Otto, you should clean up your nose. Did you have a fight? The farmer has a kind of an arrangement with the bulls. She leaves the herd and the land to them, and in return she gains the animals' respect. This relationship has been practiced and reinforced over the years. The cattle should not lose their closeness to humans. It's important so that if they're injured or ill, they can be helped safely. Annette leaves as the bulls are becoming restless. Several of the cows are ready to mate. Experienced bulls don't woo cows impetuously, but behave more like gentlemen. They approach the cows seemingly casually, leaving them space. They graze alongside them, repeatedly seeking physical contact. Odorants in a cow's urine are red like love letters. In herds without bulls, cows in season cause great unrest. But the bulls contribute a great deal to the welfare of them all with their calmness and authority. Here, the bull has separated his chosen one from the herd with gentle shoves. Cows come into season every three weeks, and then for only 18 hours. The bull must wait for ovulation. Is it time yet? The cow's messages are, however, also picked up by other bulls, and competition arises for the females. In the midst of the crowd, the first bull gets serious. More and more contenders are interested in a bit of hanky-panky. A cow can have many bulls, but not all of them are the same. There are many admirers, but at the end, only one will make the grade. A good thing that several cows are in season. Some disputes can cause a disturbance, but the young bulls are put in their place by older ones. Proper fights usually don't happen. The members of the herd know each other. Cows aren't quarrelsome, but they are curious, sometimes pushy, and that can get unpleasant. Strangers are viewed with suspicion, which means that a cameraman can have a hard time getting a decent shot. The three-legged thing with a big eye seems especially interesting. The black box is new around here and has to be investigated. Retreat is the best tactic for smart two-legged creatures. Sometimes nothing will work anymore, only waiting until the interest subsides. Whereas elsewhere the cattle are led back to the cowshed in the evening, this herd stays outside even after the sun has left the field. It's the best time for cattle, because they love temperatures below 20 degrees. They are animals that prefer cooler climes. And what do cows do in the dark? Thermal cameras give some insights. Many don't rest, but eat now, as they've spent much of the long day dozing in the heat. Thanks to their sensitive eyes, they also see better than humans in the dark. The animals need not fear natural enemies in southern Germany. And in contrast to many other cattle, this herd can defend itself with bulls and horns. At night, however, they stay closer together for protection. Hereditary behaviour, another legacy from ancient times. Summer is followed by autumn. The temperatures sink and food disappears. The only edible thing left is now consumed. Apples. Under the fruit trees lies the last of the field's bounty. The cow tests carefully whether the apple is fit to be put in its mouth. Or not. Olfactory cells and whiskers around their mouth provide valuable information. This cow has had enough of testing, preferring the last of the green grass instead. A passer-by is also looking for food. A fox. It doesn't pose a danger to the cows, but an animal with pointed teeth is nevertheless eyed with suspicion. Foxes like eating afterbirth, but he won't find any in this season, so has to content himself with worms and bugs. The cattle are unsettled by the intruder's presence, and they see him off. In late autumn, not only does the feed get scarce, the ground itself also causes more and more problems for the cows. Large clumps of mud form under their hooves, making it difficult to walk. As if walking on eggs, the 700 kilo animals slide gingerly across the field, which in turn suffers even more under the load of the quadrupeds. The turf is trampled. The cattle now all head for the open shed that protects them against wind and weather. Here, farmer Meyer serves up tasty extra food, dried grass he mowed in the fields during summer. With this feed, the cattle should make it through the winter. When the cold season covers the fields in a blanket of white, the cattle spend much of their time under the protective roof. Occasionally they're drawn to venture forth, especially because the white carpet looks so tempting. Even in the snow, the little ones still find the odd snack. The young animals get to experience the new ground cover, just like their ancestors did. They don't mind the cold. They all have a thick winter coat that also protects them against moisture. Hooves and ears don't freeze. On the contrary, the Meyers have observed that their routine outdoor exposure actually reinforces the animals' health. They're sick less often than their forebears were when they used to be kept in the cow shed. Every day, Hermann shovels almost four tons of winter feed reserves for the herd so they don't starve. Luckily, many cattle are sluggish in winter and eat less than in summer. A good thing for the farmer, whose supplies have to suffice for the whole gang. No one would have believed that farmer Meyer would be able to get his cattle through the winter outdoors. Many people call him a cattle whisperer because of how he handles his cows. The fact that he's made to feel at home among them fills the farmer with pride and satisfaction. It's so reassuring. You can draw strength from it. The herd radiates such a great energy field. It's just fantastic. Hermann Meyer has learned a lot from the animals. And he's fulfilled a dream for himself and maybe also for his protégés, allowing them to live life close to nature. Another year is over for this free-ranging herd, and a new one begins. Despite all the scepticism from farmers and resistance from authorities, these wild creatures have developed splendidly. For many animal lovers, they're a prime example for the cattle farming of the future. Not all the 12 million cattle in Germany can graze like this. There's not enough space. But drawing experience from the wild herd should help to make a better life possible for the many stall-held cattle. And if Hermann's strength should one day decline, his daughter Annette will continue to uphold the success story of this unusual herd of cattle. I think you're born with it. You can only learn it to some extent, a compassion for animals or empathy with them. But of course I watched and learned a lot from my father, or grew up with it, let's put it that way. I was basically born into the herd. This wild herd demonstrates that cows are highly sensitive creatures. Maybe we should remember that when we're dealing with them.