HARRISVILLE, N.H. — They are cute. They are cuddly. And they are each comfortably north of 500 pounds.
These bovines have amassed a loyal following of people from around New England who travel to see them, spend quality time, and yes, cuddle with them.
On an overcast day in early April, I made the trek to Granite Oak Farm on a country road in southwestern New Hampshire with one goal: cozy up to the cows and see what has kept people coming back to cuddle with them.
I met Laura and Brian Bradford at a tidy three-stall barn on their 28-acre property, where they introduced me to Barley and Biscuit, two of their dependable steers who were enjoying an afternoon snack of hay.
Laura Bradford said their farm receives anywhere from 250 to 450 cow cuddlers per month. She said many clients find their farm through social media, although others hear about it through word of mouth.
Brian Bradford had wished for the chance to cuddle with cattle while visiting New Hampshire’s fairs when he was growing up. So as an adult, he decided to purchase three calves of his own. In 2021, he started the cow cuddling business on a property in Goffstown. He’d seen a similar outfit in upstate New York but none that he was aware of in the Granite State.
Animal therapy has long been used to help people feel better and improve their mental health, although dogs and horses have historically been the most common animal companions.
Cow cuddling has also been gaining popularity worldwide, and it can have a soothing effect on people, thanks to cows’ serene demeanor and slow movements, according to Psychology Today.
Clients who visit the Granite Oak Farm can choose which cow they would like to cuddle with based on short descriptions on the Bradfords’ website.
Brian Bradford said they each have distinct personalities.
“Biscuit, he’s super cuddly. He’s our rock star,” he said. Biscuit is their go-to guy when they have visitors with wheelchairs, walkers, or kids. Or in this case, a reporter looking to understand what cow cuddling is all about.
“He’s solid. He’s very loving,” said Bradford. It was clear this man loves the cow back every bit as much.
Biscuit barely noticed when I entered his stall, and I was a bit unsure about how to proceed. There is something undeniably intimate about cuddling, and this was an animal I had just barely met, after all. I decided some getting-to-know-you time was in order to ease into things.
Biscuit seemed amenable to some pets and gentle brushing. He had a long white coat, with fuzzy brown ears and bangs. I was feeling confident enough in our rapport at this point to gently drape myself on his shoulders, which came to about the height of my stomach. Biscuit is a mini highpark, a cross between a highland and a white park cow.
Highland cows are among the oldest cow breeds, originating in the Highland region of Scotland in the sixth century. The harsh conditions resulted in a hardy but docile breed that can survive in rugged conditions. They’re known for their shaggy coats, long horns, and for being good mothers. While full-sized highland cows can weigh 900 to 2,000 pounds, efforts to create a miniature version of the breed that would require less acreage began in the late 20th century.
Bradford said the popularity of the miniature breed has taken off since the pandemic, which renewed an interest in homesteading. Some cows have also become social media sensations.
Now, a miniature highland can sell for anywhere from $14,000 up to $27,000.
The Bradfords take efforts to manage expectations with their visitors. “We cannot force or cajole the cows into laying down or standing up,” they tell prospective visitors on their website, who pay $35 for 30 minutes of cuddling or $55 for 60 minutes. That, it turns out, is entirely up to the cows. As it should be.
Biscuit was in a standing mood, although he didn’t seem to share any of my timidity, taking the first opportunity that presented itself to enthusiastically lick my hand and nibble on my jacket zipper.
“His favorite thing actually is untying shoes,” said Bradford.
Next door, Barley, a jet-black mini highland, had decided to take a load off, settling into a bed of hay and clean wood shavings. With my newfound confidence around the cows, I gave him a few scratches on the neck to introduce myself before settling in next to his shoulder. Cows run a few degrees warmer than humans, so it was like laying on a heated blanket, if that blanket weighed 550 pounds and loved munching on hay.
After I’d thoroughly peppered Brian and Laura with questions, they wandered off to another part of the barn. Everything was quiet. It was just me and Barley. There was nothing left to do other than take in the calming company of this peaceful bovine.
Amanda Gokee can be reached at amanda.gokee@globe.com. Follow her @amanda_gokee.