I've always loved cows

After Cliff and I bought our first place, a small house on twenty acres south of Oak Grove, my parents offered to sell us a milk cow. I'm not sure of her breed, although I'm guessing mostly Guernsey. Her name was Suzie. I had never been able to figure out how to get milk out of a cow, and when we bought her I told Cliff, "You'll have to milk her, because I can't."

Within two weeks, I was milking that cow and loving it. Suzie was a character, a real family pet. That's Cliff's sister sitting on her.

We visited the Missouri State Fair one year. Walking through the dairy barn, I noticed the most beautiful cows I'd ever seen in my life. Until then, I hadn't realized how tiny Jerseys can be, and of course these were groomed for show, all sleek and clean (and did I mention tiny?). I had to have one.

It was like eating potato chips: I couldn't stop at one! I'd call the ABS Breeder guy and he'd artificially inseminate my cows with registered Jersey semen, and before you knew it we had a half-dozen registered Jersey cows.

My dream was to have a dairy, but I never actually took the plunge into that enterprise. I may as well have; we were tied down to milking twice a day every day, 365 days a year.

I had several milk customers, people who preferred raw milk with thick cream rising to the top rather than store-bought, pasteurized-homogenized stuff. Still, I had quite a surplus. One Jersey can give six or more gallons a day.

We bought "bobby" calves and bottle-fed them. We bought pigs and fed them milk mixed with wheat shorts for slop. (That's the grandson who is now 22 years old; our clothes make a real fashion statement, don't they?)

I churned butter and made cottage cheese, and ice cream by the gallon, and we drank all the milk we could hold.

My herd expanded, then grew smaller, as it became difficult to find bobby calves to raise and as they became increasingly expensive.

I think it was around 1991 that I tearfully sold my last couple of dairy cows. We were free to go places then, and spend a night or a week away from home. I loved the freedom. I missed my Jerseys.

Last February, after all those cow-less years, I could stand it no longer. I bought a Jersey calf and named her Secret.


I'm hoping to find a way to get out of milking twice a day. I intend to let her calf stay with her; as it grows bigger, a calf can actually take all that milk without getting sick. There may be a month or two when I'll have to milk to relieve Secret's full udder. Cliff and I only use about a half-gallon of milk a week, so we certainly don't need to milk a cow.

I'll worry about it when the time comes; she won't even be old enough to breed until May.

Here's a self-portrait taken last summer.

Notice I'm not wearing shoes in any of these pictures? I've hated shoes all my life. Nowadays, though, thanks to plantar fasciitis and arthritic toes, I have to wear the dad-blamed things... with expensive prescription inserts added.