Goodbye, sweet Bess

Bessie is in her new home by now.

She let us lead her into the trailer, much less struggle or fuss than any of her offspring gave us as they left their home pasture.

She was not panicky or wild-eyed, just gazed calmly out the back as we talked to her new owners.

She looked at me with her deep, liquid brown eyes, let me pet her before she tossed her head a little, as if to say "Allright, if I'm leaving, let's get ON with it!"  

I like her new owners a lot.  They have experience with dairy cows, and the wife knows how to do artificial insemination, and they were asking all the right questions about the Dutch Belted breed and the "breeding up" program.  They have other cows, and were not afraid of Bessie when they stood next to her.  

They remarked (and made me feel so wonderful) that they would not have guessed her to be 12 years old based on her condition.  I took good care of her, after all.  :)

So, before they got here:  Bess had a possibly slight case of mastitis this morning.  Same quarter as usual (one udder, "four quarters" of that one udder, each quarter producing milk)

She stepped in one bucket of just-squeezed milk (she smelled the grain in the calf's pen and tried to reach over the wall to get it)  She knocked over a second half-bucket of milk as she shifted around to get back at her own grain in the other corner.  

She picked through the nice fresh hay that I had just dropped down for her, in search of the apple that she dropped when I hand-fed it to her...

She made me smile, and also made it so obvious that I've done all of this for 4 years, and experienced so much with and because of her, and that the timing was right for her to move on.  

Also, I was standing on 3 feet of bedding/manure pack (that needs to be shoveled someday).  That reality helped to solidify my resolve to see things through, just a bit...

Despite the dancing around which cost me half the morning's milk, we have 1 full gallon in the frig, to savor for the next few days.  I still shared with the barn kitties.  But this morning, none was sacrificed to the hogs, no matter how loudly they were squealing for it.  It was the last milk we'd have from our big Oreo cow.

Bessie was when the blog started.  The adventure started just a bit before...but the real stories started when we brought home....a dairy cow.  Then, there were stories to tell.

I love her big brown eyes, and her soft mothering "moo" (like a loving fog-horn), and the striking beauty that was all Dutch Belted, despite the Ayrshire that made up the other half of her DNA.  

Thank-you, Bessie, for all you brought to my life, mountains of manure but also gallons of the best milk I've ever tasted, and for all the lessons I learned from you.  I will miss your stubborn cow attitude, and also the moments of seeing you mother your calf, when my heart just seemed to melt because of your tenderness or fierceness.  There was much more to learn from a "mere" dairy cow than I ever would have imagined.

Blessings at your new home, and may they love you as much as I have.

Four years ago, Bessie (and Lucy the heifer) were delivered to our farm, and what an adventure it has been.  When, in my wildest dreams, did I ever think I would own and love a cow?!!!  Somehow, God saw fit to bless me with her and teach me along the way.  And then to say goodbye.

Seems this is the month to "regroup", and now...to begin the next chapter!  And I have no idea where this wild ride will take us.  :)

 

Laura