They came from an organic dairy near Davenport, at the end of an unseasonably warm spell last December/January, just before a huge snowstorm hit.
The two girls were unnamed at that point, one being a 6 month old heifer (young female), one being a 7 year old pregnant Dutch Belted cow.
We had seen them 2 weeks earlier after a 3 hour drive, . The heifer we saw from one side of a fence, about 50 yards away. She was pointed out by the farmer along with several other young heifers. We chose her because she had the classic Dutch Belted markings, not because we bonded with her or anything like that. I didn't touch her, didn't pet her, nothing like adopting an animal from a pet rescue....there was no bonding between prospective cow owners and new cow. We saw her and discussed which one we wanted, that was all.
In another area where the milk cows were eating (in almost knee-deep winter-time manure), I got close to the pregnant cow before she backed away and into the herd, so that I couldn't get a really good look at her. Her markings were classic Dutch Belted, and she had paperwork to prove that she was registered with the breed association as 75% purebred--meaning that there was value in this cow as far as the hope of producing higher percentage DB calves in the future and getting them registered.
The older cow was accustomed to being machine-milked, and all we had to go on for hand-milking potential was that the farmer thought this cow would work for what we wanted. She'd never been hand-milked, never been handled except for the routine of machine-milking. No wonder she melted back into the herd when a strange woman walked up to her and tried to pet her!
The farmer has been fondly called Farmer Bob in this blog. He was so much fun to talk to, very honest, very forthright in answering all of my starry-eyed questions. A wiser or more experienced cow-person probably would have asked to see a few more cows, and chosen a better one, or chosen the beautiful red Dutch Belted cow "with an attitude" (come to find out, all cows have attitude.....). I heard what Farmer Bob was telling me (a history of mastitis, one quarter of her udder which might be better "dried up" because of scarring from past mastitis episodes, a calf born in July and low milk production after that, etc, etc, etc) and didn't really know what that might mean in the long run. I wanted her! Whether she had shrunk back from me or not, I had already chosen her (Pikachu! I choose you!....for young minds with video-game knowledge.)
I wanted to see the cows again, up close, to check them over, to at least try to hand-milk the bigger cow, but the travel time, gas prices and distance made that impossible. We had to trust that these 2 cows would be fine once they got to our little farm.
The man who drove to get them was Dan. Dan arrived at their home and found that the young one hadn't been moved out of the pasture yet. He had to join the farmer in chasing her all over until they could get her corralled and into the trailer. We've had to chase cows around our very small pasture--I'm not sure how I would have fared if the first thing I had to do with OUR new cow was to chase her! Dan is a cattle man, so at least he knew how to work with Farmer Bob without getting in the way. :)
Not sure how it went with getting the pregnant cow into the trailer--the story about the heifer must have topped anything that happened with the older girl!
Dan got them to our place just as it was getting dark and the cold front was moving in. He backed up as close to the livestock gate as he could get, but still, we had to head off the heifer as she leaped out of the back of the trailer. The big cow was even more determined to make a break for it, and Dan expertly stood in her path without looking threatening, until she decided that the open gate looked more promising than the direct path into the surrounding fields (where she would have been free, free, free!)
Dan helped me as I tried to do what the farmer made sure I knew was necessary: "Milk the cow when she gets to your place or she might develop mastitis!" She was so freaked out that she pushed her way out through the hanging barn door as she took off into the blackness of the pasture.
Dan moved a big rock in place as a gate-stopper, gave me a few tips for cow-care, said goodbye, and wished me luck. He must have been shaking his head in disbelief as he drove away!
By this time, there were two big black and white shapes walking along the fence, LEANING against the fence because they didn't know the layout of the new pasture, and finally coming to rest against the fence at the very far edge of the pasture. I had a moment of panic, wondering if the great livestock fence that brother-in-law Russ had put up would be strong enough for cows (not part of the original plan when the fence was installed!). I had not put electric fencing up yet, but that would have been a sensible thing to do BEFORE cows arrived!
Jeff was out of town (England, for business, I think).
Chris had gotten Michael from basketball practice so that I could be home for the cow-delivery.
Jeremy had been watching all of the craziness from a tree.
Shadow was barking at the unfamiliar murky black shapes in the distance.
I was shaking with nervous energy and stress.
So, one year ago, the cows (soon to be named Bessie and Lucy) were here, somewhat lost in the darkness of the one-acre pasture, unmilked, unfed, unwatered, and all I could do was pray that they didn't bust through the fence before morning and earn us the unwanted title of "those crazy people from Palatine who THOUGHT they should try farming". Or even worse, the reputation of being incompetent, uninformed farmer-wanna-be newcomers whose cows escaped on the first night!
The next day, Bessie and Lucy were still there, inside the fence, looking a bit unsure of where they were and looking MUCH bigger than I remembered. Time for the cow adventure to begin!
Thanks, everyone, for reading along and experiencing it with us! ;)
Laura
http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/
Congratulations on your cow anniversary!
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