After spending a few days in Scotland earlier this month, Jeremy Clarkson found the answer to a question he has long debated: which part of Britain is most stunning? Now, having ventured beyond Hadrian’s Wall, he has come to the conclusion that it’s neither North Devon nor the Yorkshire Dales, over which he had swithered for years, but the Scottish Borders: “God almighty, they’re beautiful,” he tweeted. “Also, I bought some cows.”

Among the countless attractions of the Scottish Borders, where I live, is its abundance of Belted Galloways, without doubt the most attractive ruminant ever designed. Could it be that Diddly Squat is soon to feature the Liquorice Allsorts of the bovine world? The road out of my village passes a famous old herd, grazing on windswept moorland and, at this time of year, liable to startle walkers crossing the Eildon Hills as they loom unexpectedly out of the undergrowth.

Belties are magnificent creatures, but I like them best when there’s a stout fence between us. Calves are heavier than a quad bike, and their mothers could take on a tractor.

A friend - who once faced down a Simmental bull charging into the village and forced it into a U-turn - remembers the day she was trying to take a blood sample from a Beltie and found herself pinned against the barn wall. As the animal leaned more heavily, she felt her leg bending like a bow. Moments before it snapped she managed to squirm away, but the message was clear. These beasts might look cuddly, but they are potentially lethal.

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