Two Months, Ten Cows, and a Heart Full of Gratitude

Lucky Pennie Farms • June 17, 2025

Finding purpose, peace, and cow kisses in every sunrise.

I’ve always believed life has seasons—and some are meant to bring you back to your roots. I grew up in the hills of West Virginia, where our Jersey cow and a handful of animals taught me the meaning of quiet responsibility and unconditional care.


After we moved to Townville, South Carolina in high school, I carried that love for animals with me, even as life took me in different directions—motherhood, nursing, and eventually the corporate world.


But after losing my husband in 2024, I needed something that reminded me who I really was. Something grounded. Something alive. Something that whispered home.


That’s when Lucky Pennie Farms came to life. And it all started with Maggie Moo.


She was the first—a Highland with a sass all her own. Then came Amelia, Willow, Diesel, Maybel, Charolette, and our elegant matriarch, Miss Goldie (who most folks know as Stella). Just when I thought my heart couldn’t hold more, along came our three newest additions: Matilda, Missy Moo, and sweet little Ira.


Now we’re ten cows strong—and every one of them has brought something unexpected to my days. Matilda watches over the others like a wise auntie. Missy Moo has the funniest little trot when she’s excited. And Ira? Well, he’s still settling in, but I can already tell he’s going to be a gentle soul.


These two months have been filled with more than just chores and muddy boots. They've been filled with healing. With early morning peace and late-night reflections. With laughter when someone’s head ends up in the feed bucket, and quiet joy when a visitor finally works up the courage to brush a cow for the first time.


Lucky Pennie Farms has become more than I hoped for—it’s become a home not just for me, but for every curious child, thoughtful visitor, and daydreamer who walks through our gate.


So come visit us soon. We’d love to introduce you to the herd.


With love and a little cow slobber,
Pennie
Mutti, Farmer, & Cow Whisperer in Training

Lucky Pennie Farm Life

Not Like the Others

By Pennie Wolfe • October 21, 2025
Well, at this rate, it's safe to say blogs don't write themselves. Growing up, we had a full-sized Jersey named Sookie. Her milk was rich, creamy, and unforgettable—especially when my mom would pour the fresh cream over just-picked berries. Yum. There’s something grounding about those memories: early mornings, the rhythm of the farm, the comfort of routine. So, in my quest to reconnect with my roots, I decided to bring a Jersey milk cow back into my life. This time, though, in the spirit of my miniature cattle company, I went with a miniature Jersey. She’s pint-sized but full of personality, and while she fits in with the herd—well, sort of—she’s definitely her own cow. That got me thinking (which, as my dad would say, is always a little dangerous). He usually ends up with a longer to-do list whenever I get an idea. I started noticing how different she is from the others—not just in her sleek coat and petite frame, but in her personality. She just likes different things. If I have treats in my pocket, she’ll try to reach them with her tongue, determined to find every last crumb. She wants to see, smell, and lick my hands just to make sure nothing’s been missed. When I’m out in the pasture, she follows closely behind me. Some of the others do these things too, but not all. It made me wonder: how well do I fit in? How do I fit in with other farmers, other mothers, grandmothers, daughters? You get the point. How do I fit in the world—and how does the world see me? Can I build this farm and give it what it needs to grow? Do I even actually know what I’m doing? What if I fail. What then? Then my mind shifted. I started thinking about my Savior—how I try to follow Him closely, yet how easily I get sidetracked and distracted. I need reminders of what truly matters. And sometimes, those reminders come in unexpected ways. I know that with His help, I can do this! Jersey Girl reminded me that it’s okay not to go along with the herd. It’s okay to be different, to walk a unique path, to be my own person. Being different isn’t a flaw—it’s a gift. I may not run this farm the same way others do, and that’s okay. I can find what works for me. I’m thankful for the gentle nudge she gave me to embrace that truth.