Our first milkcow, Buttercup

In June 2007, we purchased our first milk cow, Buttercup.  She came with a new calf at her side, Daisy - the same Daisy that we currently have, the "boss" of the pasture.  Buttercup was a good milk cow.  I still remember when we tried to milk her for the first time.  She wasn't used to hand milking.  Her previous owner used a milk machine.  She kicked and moo-ed.  Tricia cried that first day, saying, "Can we do this, Kyle?"  We kept at it.  We got used to Buttercup and she got used to us, providing us with good, rich milk and cream.  We learned to make butter, kefir, creme fraiche, and ice cream from the milk she gave.  She also was a very good Showmanship cow, winning Russ many ribbons at the Parish and District Livestock Shows.


Russ showing Buttercup at the Jefferson Davis Parish Livestock Show in 2009

 Then one day in 2010 Buttercup got sick.  She just stopped eating and got very weak.  We read books, checked out different articles on the internet, called a lady in a nearby town that taught us about milking, and called veterinarians.  Tricia and I would get up 'round the clock and go out to the pasture and give her drenches and we'd pray for her.  I'm sorry to have to tell you that Buttercup got worse and ended up dying. 

A 1000 pound dead cow presents a dilemma.  What do you do with her?  Fortunately, my neighbor to the west worked offshore, but on his off-hitch, he had a trackhoe and ran a dirtwork business.  I called him up and he agreed to pull his trackhoe to the edge of his property, reach over the fence, dig a big hole and we would simply bury her in the pasture.  Sounds simple, right?  He started working at around 5 pm.  I was on my way home at 5:30 when I received a phone call from him.  He was cussing a blue streak.  He told me that it looked like I had Old Faithful in my pasture.




It seemed that the Water District had, in previous years before we purchased the land, taken a shortcut across our property to run a 6 inch waterline to a subdivision south and west of us and when scooping out dirt, my neighbor had ruptured the water main.  We called the water district personnel and we worked until almost midnight to fix the leak.  What a mess!  I had the entire neighborhood with no water, we were muddy, tired, and wet.  Eventually we got poor Buttercup buried, but it was a catastrophe all around.

I thought about old Buttercup, whom we simply called "Mama Cow" today as I walked the pasture.  You see, in addition to starting us out in the milk cow business and giving us milk, she also gave us Daisy and Rosie who gave us Magnolia.  Daisy, in turn also gave us Romeo and Stryker, two Jersey bull calves.  I was watching Daisy eating all fat and pregnant and pregnant Rosie with Magnolia at her side and realized how thankful I was to old "Mama Cow."

Grazing Jersey cows

You can tell that Rosie is carrying a little calf.  Look how fat she is!



What are you lookin' at?

I walked on to the spot by the fence under the oak tree where we buried the old girl.  With all the rains, I see a foot-deep sinkhole where some of the dirt had settled.  I need to fill that in with dirt so no one steps in the hole and gets hurt.  The grass grows lush and thick over her grave, providing good forage for her offspring, reminding me of the circle and interdependency of the way the Good Lord designed nature.

Sinkhole over Mama Cow's grave

As I walked back to the house, Magnolia, Rosie and Daisy waited expectantly by the garden, hoping that I was going to feed them some sweet potato vines and small sweet potatoes.  I fed them some and headed indoors thankful for our little animal family.



Hunger Games?

 Good night, milk cows!