Life and all its experiences can test a person to the breaking point, but some can turn even the worst of times into something akin to a game.
Milking a herd of dairy cattle every single day of the year is where I learned my sisters and I could prevail over just about anything with a survivalist’s attitude.
Which is worse, I’ve been asked a time or two by people whom I’ve known forever, the extreme heat of summer or the unrelenting cold of winter when it came to the two-plus hours spent milking, twice a day, every day.
Hands down, the heat of summer brought some mighty unbearable challenges. The cows detested the heat, and if anyone thinks even the most gentle of cows can’t become grumpy, we have stories that could prove otherwise.
The first few days out on lush pasture in early spring brought us cows who were not exactly the most appealing. “Clean-up on aisle 2!” my sister would call out to me, and I better hurry with the stiff-bristle push broom, along with a burst of energy to go with it.
The milking parlor could reach degrees near 100 quite easily, the straight eight stanchions filled with large Holsteins putting off body heat, flicking those long tails to keep us and the flies away. I took a tail to the face enough times to tell you it humbles and it hurts, in equal measure.
While going through pictures with my sisters late last year, an oldie turned up of me with a girlfriend whom I had convinced to help one summer evening. White t-shirts that I had clearly borrowed from my Dad’s drawer, a blue handkerchief tied over our hair, the two of us smiling in the “before” picture. No matter how hot the day, long jeans and boots had to be worn.
Mom had snapped this, along with an “after” picture which showed those white t-shirts filthy, mine forever stained with the bright color of an iodine-based dip that a generously-timed tail had blessed upon me. We both looked a little less inclined to smile, having reached melting-point temperatures over a couple of hours.
Every farmer of livestock knows the battle of flies all too well. Misting fly spray, large bug zappers placed in opportune places to cut population, large fans and any up-to-the minute new fly treatment will be tried. The battle is endless.
Even the most gentle cow would prance and kick and fly high the almighty tail when least expected, in hopes of sending a pesky fly off to go pick on some other creature.
Until the winter comes, the war is on.
