Cows

     Holsteins, herefords, black angus, jerseys, these were some of the first kinds of cows I learned about. Beef and milk cattle. Whenever we saw cows on the side of the road, my dad would point out what kinds they were and I learned their names. As the years passed and I became a librarian I would occasionally browse through books and learn about more kinds. I don't know a lot, but I know enough that I surprised Heather as we drove to Nauvoo. She had no idea I knew anything about bovines.

     My step-grandpa Sharp, in Rigby, Idaho was a farmer and he had maybe 20 dairy cows. One of them was a jersey and gave very rich milk. Her tail had frozen and fallen off one winter. She looked so strange. My cousins liked to have Grandpa squirt milk right into their mouths, but I couldn't stand warm milk. He used machines to milk, but would finish or 'strip' by hand. He did not process his milk. It must have gone directly into cans for processing elsewhere.

      My Dad's father, who I never knew, bought and sold cattle. Dad developed a love for them that he had his entire life. His brother, Dean, carried on the cattle business after grandpa died and I remember going one time with Dad when he was helping to load a dangerous bull. It was really scary. Shortly before we moved to Samoa, Dad considered buying a dairy farm. I was all for it because it had a bunk house and I figured it would be the perfect place for sleepovers with my friends. I remember talking about it with them at recess.
 Grandpa Jones was a farmer who also raised beef cattle. When mom was young they also had some they milked, but I have no memory of that. Anyway, it was common to have cattle next to the house and sometimes even in the yard to keep the grass down. Prior to 1961 there was no toilet in the house and we had to go out into the yard where the cattle frequently were to use the outhouse (it was a two-seater). I worried that the cows might knock it down while I was inside. I think that eventually that is how it met it's demise, though it was empty. Grandpa taught me that cattle will go through a fence for water, you must make sure they always have plenty of water.

There was a farm next to our neighborhood that also had a dairy. They had maybe 80 milk cows. On a few occasions I saw the cows lined up waiting to be milked. You have to milk them regularly as they fill up and get very uncomfortable - no time off for the dairy man. The milk went into a big machine for processing before the truck came to take it away. I never liked how the cows were so dirty. New born calves were kept in a separate area in the barn and fed with bottles. I was allowed to feed them once; they pulled so... hard on the nipples!

When I was in high school Dad bought 2 calves and kept them in a field at the end of our street. He loved them, but our horse kept chasing them and they would get out and run down State Street. We'd have to go catch them. It was a nightmare. We finally got rid of the horse and the escapes stopped. Dad eventually sold them; he couldn't bring himself to have them butchered. Years later he bought another Hereford and named him Rusty. He really enjoyed taking the grand-kids to visit Rusty.
Posted 24th March 2014 by Kristine Castro