Been talking about getting a family milk cow for a few months. I checked newspapers, craigslist, and asked around and there wasn't much out there. I'd located one little Jersey heifer for sale (I'm now buying goat milk from this lady - mine have one more month to go), but, sweet as she was, she was just a little too expensive for a heifer that can't even be bred until this summer (add $300 if you want to wait and buy her bred). We had pretty much decided it would be more sensible to hold off until next year and invest this year in improving the barn and running some more fence.
Wait three days... When have we ever done the sensible thing when it comes to homesteading?
Wednesday night I was unwinding after dinner and decided to hop on the "farm & garden" section of craigslist to see what I might find, cow or otherwise. (I don't do this often, usually only when I'm looking for a particular item, and can only attribute my random bouts of classified "window shopping" to my dear dad who must have passed the habit on. Is it learned or is it in the blood, I wonder?) Lo and behold, there was an ad for two Jersey heifers, bred to calve in June. No price. Three hours away.
(Wouldn't it be easier if I just told you, "Hey, we bought a cow. I'm very excited." Do I really have to tell you ALL the details?)
I called. Same price as the expensive heifer listed above (the "buy now" price, not the bred price), but being bred already to a Jersey bull made her a much better deal for the price. We could have milk this summer. And, the family runs a dairy farm and we had six heifers to choose from. The downside, as it turns out, is an animal that's not quite as well-handled and used to people as the spoiled little thing my milk lady has.
I talked to Bobby. I played with our finances to see if we had enough "extra" from our tax return (aside from what we set aside for bills) to do this. We did. Just enough, plus some for gas to get down there. It means we don't get a new water heater, the extra fencing will have to wait, and Bobby has to zip right back to work. I read some more of my cow books before bed. I dreamt cow dreams. I woke up very excited and begged my husband to make a decision. "I'm counting on you to make the final decision," I told him. "I admit I'm too excited to see this situation clearly. If you think it would be wiser to wait, I will accept that. I can tell you we have the money, we have a place to put one, we have food to feed one, and barring tragical accidents we will make our money out of one, and last but not least, I really want one!"
Bobby is not a very talkative or expressive fellow, so I can't tell you anything interesting about his response. He seemed reluctant to take the responsibility for the final decision and after the first shrug and disinterested, "I don't know," and my gentle prodding for an answer, he gave me the go-ahead. '"You'd better call the guy." Wahoo! A decided answer from my phlegmatic spouse is a rare and much sought after item around here!
We told the guy we were coming later in the day (if not that day, we wouldn't have a chance until the middle of next week and we wanted first pick). Now, how are we going to bring this thing home? Thank Yah for friends with cattle trailers! After some arranging, picking up the trailer, listening to our sweet cattle friend tell us that Jerseys are the meanest cows in the world and that if we want a good milk cow we should get a Holstein (though he's had much experience with all sorts of animals, he's a beef guy, bless his heart. I love him so!), we were on our way. It was lunch time. Kind of a late start.
The three hour drive took four, hauling the trailer. We were racing darkness. We were surprised by the sheer number of cows packed onto this backwoods dairy farm. We were sad when the owner lady said, "they're a little on the scrawny side because we haven't had the money for grain." Oh dear. Interestingly, on the phone, her husband told me they feed mostly hay and grass, not much grain, because they don't like to "push" their girls.
I'll rabbit trail just for a minute because I've been painfully aware the last few months of the state of modern farming and dairying, and the source of our food is a subject dear to my heart. This woman had called me after I talked to her husband to tell me that they needed to be paid with a cashier's check because they had a lien on the cows that her husband had forgotten about. She said they'd had a really hard winter and had to "hawk" their cows to make it through. "We used to be able to just sell whatever we wanted and now we have to talk to the loan officer first." I told her we had intended to pay cash anyway and she said that was fine, they just couldn't take a personal check.
I think their dairy is probably a good picture of what's going on across America. The dairy, like I said, was small and packed. They milk (by machine) only about forty cows. You can tell they cared about the cows, but that the driving force behind everything they did was to make money. And not money to excess, but money just to stay afloat. And failing at that. The milk man was coming to pick up their milk just as we were leaving. I had asked her who they sell their milk to (a company on the MO/AR line I was unfamiliar with) and she explained how they pay not only by butterfat content but also by protein content, unlike most companies. I thought that was interesting. I didn't ask what they were paid for their milk. I'm probably better off not knowing.
I have a lot of thoughts on large-scale dairying, but if you're interested in that sort of thing you've already read it all elsewhere. Dairying on a small scale, providing untreated milk and milk products for our family, selling extra to friends and family.... now, that's what I'm talking about!
Where was I? Oh, the six heifers. One was smaller and the owner wanted to keep her after all. One was bred later than the rest and bred with an Angus bull, and although cheaper we ruled her out because we wanted milk sooner (and the possibility of a purebred heifer we could sell). So really it was only a choice of four nearly identical heifers. Thankfully, the heifer decided for us. Curious as cats, the lot of them, the one we picked left the others and came to the gate to check us out. She was a little wary of being touched, but not afraid of us.
I should speed this up a bit because the really interesting part happened much later, as my facebook friends are aware! It was tricky to get her in the trailer, but we succeeded. She was totally freaked out the whole way home. I can't praise Bobby enough for his careful driving! He drove as if his own children were in that trailer. The three-turned-four hour drive turned into a five hour drive. We got home just after 10pm. Ugh. I guess there is something to be said about buying local. I definitely was thinking about my milk-lady's heifer on the way home! I still felt like this was a good deal and would work out.
All the kids got a good look at her before we went into the house. Royal commented that she was a "huvvy one" (all my kids have said "huvvy" for heavy and I think it's so dear). I agreed and said she was very strong (they're suppose to be twice as strong as a horse the same size) and that someday we'd teach her to pull a cart. He laughed like this was a most absurd idea and told me, "She can't pull a cart! She doesn't have arms!"
I thought it would be best to let the cow settle down in the trailer overnight. We could deal with her in the morning. I still wasn't sure if we should put her in the barn in a stall (which she wouldn't be used to) or if she should go in our little pasture (we'd put the goats in the barn). I had some reservations about our lazy fencing... anyway, I just didn't want to think about it, I was so tired! Everyone but Bobby was in bed by 10:30. I left Bobby with a cow book opened to instructions for making a rope halter. That might have been a mistake.
Around 12:30am Bobby walks into the bedroom, waking me from a dead sleep, saying, "So, is there any reason she can't go into the pasture tonight?" I grumbled something about it being better to wait until morning and he said, "because she's already in there." I wasn't very happy about it, still didn't think it was a good idea, but I guess I just couldn't clear the sleepy fog from my head to think it through and since he seemed confident and happy with what he'd done, I promptly fell back asleep. That might have been a mistake, too. (The words "homesteading" and "mistake" are commonly used together.)
I woke up around 5:30am and Bobby still hadn't come to bed. Not unusual for him, but I never rest well when he's up so I got up to see what he was about. He walked in the front door as I came out of the bedroom and informed me with an incredibly exasperated, discouraged look on his face, "The cow is gone."
Around 2:30, as he was doing some bible study at the dining table, he heard our outside dog barking (Pyr outside, Dane inside). (Me, gently: "You left the dogs out? Don't you remember me reading to you how cows don't like dogs?" This was my only "you should have" comment the whole time - this poor guy knew his mistakes and was suffering terribly without any help from me!) He went out to see what was up and poor moolly cow had gone AWOL. Our saggy fence was sagging a little lower in one place where she had gone over and her tracks were in the mud just outside of it. Unfortunately, we found NO other tracks, the whole time we searched for her, in spite of the mud!
I quietly returned to bed and began praying fervently. Prayer definitely made the difference for me yesterday as there just wasn't much I could do. I wanted to fret, but the more I prayed the more confident I became that whatever happened, things would be okay. I had peace. Because I turned to Yahweh, I was an encouragement to my family instead of an emotional drain. Bobby was more discouraged as each hour passed without any news or clue. He was also feeling the effects of not having slept. My parents came out as well as my sister and her husband (with their baby and his two older kids that were visiting). I held the fort and went about my usual Sabbath preparations (doubling just about everything I was preparing in order to feed the search crew). I was already a little behind because we'd spent the previous day picking up this cow. It hurt physically (back's still whacky), but was good to be busy.
It was rainy and cold. The guys and older kids searched the woods all around our place. They talked to the nearest neighbors. One neighbor offered his 4-wheeler (we declined, as it wouldn't be much good in the thick woods) and said that if we still hadn't found her he'd saddle his horses the next day (today) and help us search. We've only met this guy once (though is wife happened to be the Hospice nurse with my grandpa when he died). He's so nice! I love the sense of community here.
It was afternoon, my parents and sister and her kids had gone home. Vince stuck around and helped Bobby, who was nearing the point of dysfunction from stress and sleep debt. They drove off to talk to some more neighbors and saw our heifer in a field with some beef cattle almost two miles from here. (Remember the Sesame Street song, "One of these things just doesn't belong here, one of these things just isn't the same"?) They stopped the truck, called the call she was familiar with (I had asked when we bought her) and she came trotting up to the fence, with the Herefords following her. They pulled into the drive and Bobby hopped the fence and got her haltered. They ended up contacting the owner of the field, who explained how she showed up that morning. He stuck her in with his before he went to work (good neighbors will do this, instead of leaving the stock to wander). He said he'd help them get her after work. That gave us just enough time for a nap. =)
I have rarely seen a man so relieved as Bobby looked when he came home and announced that our moolly cow had been found. I was very, very glad, but I think I was the least surprised of the lot. When you're confident in what your heavenly Father can do, it pleases you but doesn't surprise you when he does it!
Bobby walked her home. It was still raining.
We decided (unanimously) that her name should be Molly (as we already have a Royal Payne). This was derived from "moolly." I'd been calling her moolly cow since the moment we met, because of a poem in one of the kid's books.
The Good Moolly Cow
by Eliza Lee Follen (1787 - 1860)
Come! supper is ready
Come! boys and girls now,
For here is fresh milk
From the good moolly cow.
Have done with your fife
And your row de dow dow,
And taste this sweet milk
From the good moolly cow.
Whoever is fretting
Must clear up his brow,
Or he'll have no milk
From the good moolly cow.
And here is Miss Pussy;
She means by mee ow,
Give me too some milk
From the good moolly cow.
When the children are hungry
Oh who can tell how
They love the fresh milk
From the good moolly cow.
So when you meet moolly
Please say with a bow,
"Thank you for your milk,
Mrs. Good Moolly Cow."
(There's another about a mooly cow - with one L - from the same time period, called "The Cow-Boy's Song.)
I have always liked my goats (and they have their pros over cows), but when I started reading about keeping a family milk cow, and talking with people who have kept both goats and cows, I began to think a cow was definitely the critter for me (I'm talking about personality, but let's not leave out my fondness for butter). I especially thought so when I met a milk cow face to face. Mom (who has kept both) and I were comparing them one day to cats and dogs. My impression of a Jersey cow, and she confirmed this, was that she was like a really big dog. Goats seem to have that independent, "I could just as easily get along without you" nature that cats have. They have minds of their own and seem harder to get close to. Some people (cat people) like this about them and treasure their relationships with goats. I like my goats, like I said, but I think I'd like them a lot less if they didn't give milk! A cow (a Jersey, anyway) seems to me much more affectionate and personable. I understand they become one of the family and I can definitely see this happening here at Make-It-Do Farm. The fresh milk, butter, cream, yogurt, cheese, and yearly calf are side benefits.
(A side note about our farm name. We painted this on our 12 passenger van. One day while at the feed store, Bobby was waiting for me to come out and he overheard a boy of about 10 or 11 reading the van. It sounded like this. "Make... take away ... it... take away... do... farm." Are we the only ones who found this hilarious?)
We plan to continue keeping goats. The meat is fantastic, the milk is great for babies and they're a nice size for the children. When we start milking the cow we might sell our only horned goat, however. She came to us with horns and although she's a great goat in every other respect and our main producer, she does toss her head around and hurts the littler children. We've disbudded all our kids so our other two does are horn-free and the children love them.
Enough about our cow adventures...
For now.
1 comments:
I am glad you found your cow!!
Post a Comment