Shat Acres Highland Cattle is the oldest registered Highland herd in the United States. It is also the oldest closed herd, meaning no Highland female has been purchased for breeding in over forty years. The over fifty years of breeding and perfecting desirable Highland genetic traits has also made Shat Acres Highland Cattle some of the most winning Highlands in the United States.

Shat Acres Cinnamon (with the assistance of excellent bulls) was in large part, responsible for Shat Acres' success in the show ring. Ol’ Cinnamon, as she was affectionately called long before Ray and Janet began showing their Highlands throughout the United States, was the dam of Shat Acres Cinnamon Swirl and Shat Acres Cinnamon Raisin, as well as several other Cinnamon offspring. Cinnamon Swirl, was Ray and Janet’s first National Western Stock Show Grand Champion in Denver, Colorado in 2004. Cinnamon Swirl’s offspring then did their momma proud, Shat Acres Swirl’s Girl winning Reserve Grand Champion Cow/Calf at the NWSS, and her son Shat Acres Cinnamon Bear winning many Grand Championships in 2009. Another Cinnamon Swirl daughter, Shat Acres Cinnamon Eve, was Grand Champion Cow/Calf in Virginia in 2016 with baby CinnamonDot.

"Is she going to hurt us?"

Vermont Heritage Highlands: The History of Shat Acres Highland Cattle By Janet Steward

The year was 1963. Eddie Richardson had just proposed to his girlfriend, Audrey, as they walked the back pasture at Trout Brook Farm. Turning, Audrey realized they were not alone. As they meandered, they were being followed by a long-haired, long-horned animal. Audrey had grown up north of Boston. "All I ever had was a dog. That cow was pretty spectacular."

Scottie, as she was called, followed Eddie everywhere. But she did not follow just Eddie. As Eddie puts it, "We always had a lot of people kicking around the farm, and Scottie loved people. No one wanted to look at our Herefords or dairy cows. They only wanted to look at Scottie." What Eddie remembers most about Scottie is her friendliness. You could walk right up to her anywhere and put your arms around her neck. She was halter trained, but as Eddie said, "Why would you need a halter? Scottie would come when she was called and follow you wherever you wanted her to go."

"I know you," the man with a distinctive accent said as he approached Ray in the hotel lobby.

It was 2006, in Sheridan, Wyoming. Ray Shatney and I were attending the International Highland Cattle Gathering, which at one time was held every five years in countries throughout the world. This year the United States hosted the event. Enthusiastic Highland owners from Canada, Denmark, Germany, Scotland, Sweden, New Zealand, and Australia joined American breeders. "You do?" Ray questioned, recognizing neither the face nor the accent.

"Tiger Lily!" the man responded excitedly. "Shat-Acres Tiger Lily! Wait here. I'll be right back."

"It's not even close to my birthday, and I don't want a new cow.'

Following a summons from the office, I hurried from my classroom to the secretary's desk. The ever-cheerful Mrs. Campbell smiled as she pointed to the unsaddled receiver and its curly cord on her desk.

"I got you a birthday present!" the excited voice on the other end had shared. "I bought you a Beef Shorthorn heifer at the auction. She is red and white. Her name is Samantha."

“One of your calves was just hit on Route 16. There might have been two of them. I thought you would want to know.”

2,400 vehicles drive past our Greensboro Bend farm on Route 16, a long, straight stretch where cars travel at high rates of speed. It was 9:45 PM in Plainfield when the call came in from one of Ray’s fellow Greensboro volunteer firefighters. Just preparing to go to bed, Ray and I were forty-five minutes away from the reported accident.

Hastily throwing on sweatshirts and grabbing flashlights, we ran full tilt for the pickup. The pitch-dark, rainy ride from Plainfield to Greensboro seemed endless, filled mostly with a sickened silence, occasionally punctuated by anxiety-filled verbalizations.