By Kathy Pollard
“Know well the condition of your flocks, and give attention to your herds” (Prov. 27:23).
When we first brought our Jersey cow home, she seemed so BIG. I was supposed to walk her around the electric fence perimeter so she’d learn her new pasture boundaries. I was intimidated by her size and it made me nervous. What if she stepped on me or ran me over? In fact, everything about getting a dairy cow seemed big…the learning curve, the commitment, the investment. I laugh now at how green we were. We’ve learned much over the past 18 months, and it has been one of the richest experiences we’ve had.
We made the difficult decision to sell Peaches (for a variety of reasons) and it happened much faster than I anticipated. Now I’m looking at an empty barn and pasture and feel a big hole in my heart. And yes, I already regret letting her go. And yes, if I could, I’d bring her back in a heartbeat.
I wanted to call this “Ode to Peaches,” but I’m not a poet. So I will just share my thoughts, if you’ll indulge me.
It feels good to learn a new skill. While it was scary at times, it was invigorating to do something so completely foreign to our norm. We read a lot and asked a lot of questions, but the bulk of the learning came from the actual hands-on experience.
Community is essential. Our friend, Jeremy Waddell, knows cows. He made our venture possible by finding Peaches, teaching us how to milk her, and walking with us through every learning stage. In addition, we found that all the “cow people” naturally gravitate toward each other. It was fun having new conversations with new friends about our new adventure.
Commitment is doable. Peaches needed milked morning and evening, every day, rain or shine. We milked her through icy weather, thunderstorms, and tornado warnings. We milked her when our schedule was tight. We milked her on major holidays. We milked her when we didn’t feel good. We milked her when we already had a gazillion jars of milk. There were many times we didn’t really want to and also many times when we were afraid we wouldn’t be able to (like when the milking machine motor would freeze and refuse to start), but we kept at it until we figured it out. Because we HAD to. It didn’t matter how we felt or what was going on. We still had to milk Peaches.
My husband loves me. I had to add this one. Having a dairy cow was my dream. Neal not only had no interest, he was dead set against it. But when he finally decided we could have one, he jumped all in. He helped build our barn, paid for the cow, and learned the skills. It didn’t take long for us to discover that I’m actually allergic to hay (I had no idea!), so Neal ended up being the one to do the bulk of the daily milking. Peaches was my dream, but Neal became her farmer. He threw on the overalls (and looked good in them) and the Muck boots. I often heard him whistling while he was carrying in the large, full milk pail. And when things got hard or the weather got bad, he didn’t complain.
The reward is sweet. Oh, fresh creamy milk is the very best! There’s nothing like it. We had straight-off-the-cow raw milk in our coffee every morning. We took dozens of jars to friends and family. We felt RICH with all of our wholesome milk, made all the sweeter by the fact that she was our cow and we were bringing in the fruit of our labor. The commitment was worth it.
Neal and I often talked about the life lessons we learned in the barn. We even considered writing a marriage book based on it because there were so many correlations: commitment can be hard, you can focus on the sacrifice or the blessings, the reward is sweet, a little attention goes a long way, the barn gets gross if you don’t clean out the poop, and so on…ha. I’m grateful we experienced it together. I liked us as cow owners. As Neal often said after a particularly challenging morning, “It feels good to push through and figure things out!”
Now I’m sitting here thinking back over our time with Peaches…the beautiful moments of a sunrise milking, the amazing experience of a calf birth, the delight on the faces of the children who visited our barn, and alllll the ways she gave to our family. I’m thankful for every moment of it.
Is it weird that I have prayed for Peaches to be happy in her new home?
Life and Favor (Job 10:12) 