The Cow Who Lived

Thank you for your awesome Happy Fathers Day picture! Since every masterpiece needs a name, I am calling this one “Flying Cow and Baby Cow”.

The Cow Who Lived (21 June 2019)

While teaching Aeronautics at the Air Force Academy I have told several farm stories to the classes I have taught. In what I am sure is an attempt to delay academic instruction, some students ask quite regularly for farm stories. However, I only have a limited supply of stories, and since I also know that scarcity makes the stories more valuable, I resisted telling them too frequently. Therefore, one of my classes a while back started asking for stories on Fridays, and thereafter, they started calling every Friday, “Farm Story Friday”. And it stuck. Every class thereafter has had someone start asking for farm stories, especially on Fridays (or on Thursdays if we don’t have class on Friday). The title of this story, “The Cow Who Lived” was given by one of my cadets.

It all started with a sick cow. My important recollection of this sick cow, I being probably around 10 years old, was that it’s manure was purple. This sick cow was a good cow (defined as a cow that gave a lot of milk) so my dad wanted to keep it. However, we couldn’t mix the sick cow’s milk with the rest of the milk or the whole batch would be ruined, so we would milk the sick cow separately and throw out her milk each day. My dad gave the cow medicine and worked to bring it back to health, but as time went on it seemed to be getting worse.

Eventually my dad decided we needed to get rid of the cow while we could still sell it to the butcher. A project like this is not rocket science, but it can take the better part of a day, so everything was organized. We arranged the delivery, put the cattle rack on the pickup, and put the cow in the stalls where we could send it up the concrete stairs onto the back of the pickup as shown in my awesome picture (which uses your awesome picture). Then we would be able to transport the cow to her final destination.

We had done these procedures before, and cow’s don’t always want to go up the steps, but usually a little convincing gets them to take the steps into the truck. This cow would prove to be much more difficult.

We herded the sick cow (with purple manure…) down the chute to the stairs, where the cow stopped, refusing to go further. So we pushed, hit, and hollered to convince the cow to ascend the concrete staircase, but to no avail. On a farm, you learn quickly that giving up easily is not really an option. Tired, hungry, or just want to do something different? Too bad- until the job is complete, you’re not going anywhere!

Eldon talks about the time he was moving pipe in one of the far fields shortly after moving to Idaho. He was really tired and thirsty, so he decided to make the mile walk back to the house for some sympathy and a glass of water. He finally reached the house and was able to get a glass of water, but he couldn’t find any sympathy. So Eldon trudged the mile back to finish the job he had only half completed.

And so it was with this cow, we needed to get it loaded onto the truck. Other jobs were waiting and we wanted this one complete so we could move on to the next chore. I went to the barn to get the electric prod specifically designed to deliver a right-sized jolt to cows to get them moving. The electric jolt, pushing, shouting, and hitting all combined did not get that sick cow with purple manure up the steps.

As time went on, other brothers and my dad joined the fray. Of course, the initial thought of those joining was “come on, this isn’t that hard a job- you should have had this done a long time ago”! However, they soon learned that this cow had an extraordinary streak of stubbornness. Even with the additions, our combined manpower was still insufficient to convince the cow more than a couple steps up, only to have her come back down.

As time went on, frustration grew. A pitchfork was used to poke the cow. A 2x4 piece of lumber was used, first as a lever, pushing the 2x4 against the poles at the side of the chute to try and pry the purple-pooping cow up the steps. And then as something to hit the cow with in an effort to convince her that it was in her best interest to climb the steps. But despite the combined efforts of multiple men/boys pushing, shouting, hitting, poking, and leveraging, this cow was not convinced, and she refused to climb the stairs.

Do you remember the movie, Temple Grandin, that Eugene and Jennifer gave us for Christmas several years ago- the one we all thought looked extremely boring, yet when we watched it as a family we all ended up fascinated by the story and looking up more information on line? Temple Grandin had an amazing ability to understand how cows would act/react given certain stimuli. Her work has had a huge influence on the cattle industry. I think that if she had been with us on that day, she might have helped us figure out the problem.

But we didn’t have Temple’s expertise, and we never solved the problem. So, eventually we were forced to accept defeat. I don’t remember how many hours we tried getting the cow with the purple manure up the stairs, but it had to have been at least three or four. I don’t remember how many of us were involved, but it had to have been at least four or five. I do remember that eventually we had to give up and get on with all the other activities required for running a farm. And I do remember my father’s concern that this sick cow would die, resulting in a significant loss.

But the sick cow with purple manure did not die. She eventually got better and returned to producing a lot of good milk- a blessing for my family. So, it goes to show that sometimes when we do not receive those blessings that we desire most and strive so hard for, afterwards we may look back and see how God has blessed us by not granting us our desire. I think there is some definite truth in Garth Brooks’s song, “Unanswered Prayers”. I am also grateful for prayers in my past that seemed to go unanswered. And while I don’t remember specifically praying that this cow would go up the stairs, I imagine that my dad probably did, if only in his heart. Yet in the end, we were able to thank God for the cow with the purple poo that would not climb the steps, the cow who lived!