Where Bonnie spends her time

During this awful heat wave we've had for the past couple of weeks, Bonnie spends all day every day beside my cabin in the woods.  It must be the coolest place around.  When the sun gets low in the west, she grazes her way toward the house, and when her belly is full, she lies down to chew her cud near Jody.  

That's where I see her each morning at sunup.  As I write this, it's 6:40 A.M. and Bonnie is headed back toward the cabin again, grabbing a bite of luscious pasture with every step.  
Flies torture cattle and horses this time of year.  Not just ordinary flies, but horseflies and face flies and horn flies that leave blood running where they've bitten.  I can use spray that gives about ten minutes of relief to the poor cows, but nothing really keeps the flies off for very long.  If Bonnie weren't providing us with milk for nine months of the year, we could use cattle ear tags that are effective in keeping flies away for about a month; but as it is, she suffers.  They do get relief during nighttime hours, because the flies go away when it's dark.  
I am so hoping Bonnie has a heifer this time; not just because I want a pet, but because if it's a heifer, it won't be such a big calf.  Also, cows tend not to carry a heifer calf as long, which would help with the size of the calf.  Ten days before her due date I'll be keeping Bonnie closer to the house, not allowing her to go to her daily cool spot by the cabin.  There are huge gullies and canyons back there, and a staggering newborn would likely end up tumbling to the lowest point on our forty-two acres.  
That's what happened with her first calf.