The Hardest Life Lesson I Learned from Livestock

I grew up on a dairy farm, I raised steers, chickens and goats to show in 4H. I spent as much time as I could in the barn growing up. I knew all about the birds and the bees and where babies come from long before my peers because I had seen the miracle of life whenever a new calf was born. I played with calves and kittens before I could walk while my mom was feeding calves. I think the first time I really laughed was when a calf bellowed at my mom as she walked by with a bottle. When I could help I had chores I had to do, I bottle fed calves, fed grain and as I got older I helped my dad with the cows too. Feeding hay, milking, bringing cows back into the barn, bedding, the list goes on and on.

. I started showing dairy cows as soon as I was big enough to hold onto the end of the halter, usually my Dad would help me lead and my main job (even though I didn’t realize it then,) was to stay out from under my dad’s feet and not drop the end of the halter, I was pretty sure I was leading that great big ole cow myself. Honestly the first cow I remember being in the show ring with, I probably could have led myself because she was so well trained and calm. I still remember little details like what her name was (Ellie) what we placed (first) and what the judge said when he handed me the ribbon (I think you need a bigger cow, Ellie was a huge cow, especially comparing her to lil 6 year old me.)

I remember when I got to show my first calf by myself and I got to teach her how to lead, I brushed her every day, taught her how to walk on a halter, gave her baths and clipped her. These are the memories of my childhood, I look back and know I had it good.

 Then as I grew I took on more projects with different animals, my younger brother and I got into raising Boer goats, if anything could compare to cute little Holstein calves balling at my mother for feed, it was adorable little Boer goat kids jumping off of their mothers and chasing each other in circles. This is the side of agriculture and farming I love. I learned a lot of life lessons from animals. Perhaps the hardest one though was a lesson I learned at a young age was about loss.

The same cow that I showed with my father was the first cow I lost. Sure a few cows would just be gone when I milked the next time, but my young naive mind never really pondered where they disappeared too. But I remember loosing Ellie. The decision was made after many vet calls and treatments and no improvement in the poor aged cow, to have her put down. My mother sat my brothers and I down and explained that she was not going to get better and she was in pain and it wasn’t fair to leave her suffering just because we would miss her. The day the vet arrived I knew what was going to happen, my brothers and I each went and said our good byes to Ellie, because she was really the first cow all of us had bonded with and shown. Many memories in the show ring and barn lead back to the dear old cow. This is the hardest part of animal agriculture. This is the only part that “stinks”.  I cried myself to sleep that night, and it was not the last time I cried because of an animal.

I’ve grown up, I have a farm of my own with Cheviot sheep and dairy and Boer goats, even my poultry are important to me. Yes I am admitting I have cried over a chicken, don’t judge.  It seems like every year there are new challenges and I am constantly reminded of my tough lesson Ellie taught me about loss. At least once a year I get frustrated and want to sell all my livestock and not deal with the pain anymore.

This year was no different. I found myself with one of my dairy goats, McKenna, fighting off “Brain Worm” or meningeal worm.  That is transmitted by snails. This worm gets into the spinal cord and brain and causes paralysis. Despite my best efforts in treating her she continued to get worse. I made the decision to have her put down. I gave her extra grain the night before and held her head in my lap as I talked to her and explained that she was no longer going to be in pain.

Shortly after that, one of my first dairy goats that was a big pet came down with pneumonia. She had chronic lung problems and I was always fighting it to pull her through winters. This year it beat her, she lost weight and went down hill fast. I bedded a special pen for her, gave her grain and talked to her. I left for few minutes to continue chores and when I returned she was gone. I cried a lot over her as memories flooded back of all that she had done. This goat had an amazing personality and was the goat I learned to hand milk on. She went to fairs and shows and allowed new people to learn how to milk and lead and care for goats. Many 4hers laughed as I squirted them with her milk. She was always trying to steal drinks out of people’s hands and had a habit of chewing on papers, (the vets doing fair papers weren’t fans of her, and I learned never to conduct transactions of money in the goat pasture.)  I literally cannot put into words how amazing this goat was and what she meant to me.  It was after losing her  I had my annual, “I think I am going to sell all of my animals and get out of the livestock industry” train of thoughts. It was two weeks ago I lost McKenna and Buffy, and what did I just finish doing? I just came in from feeding my animals. Yup I still have them, every single goat, sheep, chicken, duck and goose.

Why do I continue to put myself through it? Because I cannot see myself doing anything else. What would I do if I didn’t have to get up every morning to feed and care for all of these crazy critters? They literally are my reason for getting out of bed. I would have more of a social life and not be tied to the farm with the need to milk the goats twice a day EVERYDAY, I would not have to trudge through snow, rain and sleet to make sure they are happy and full. I would not have to wake up in the middle of the night during frigid temperatures to go outside and check for new kids and most of all I would not have to deal with the heartache from losing my beloved animals.

 However I keep doing it, I thrive during kidding season when everything goes right and I have bouncing baby kids and lambs running around. I am like a little kid sitting next to the incubator listening to chicks making their first peep out of the hatching eggs. This is the glamorous part of agriculture, this is the part that I love telling people about, but sometimes you have to know about the heartache and pain. It’s part of life, it’s part of who I am. No matter how hard it gets I still drag myself out of bed early in the morning to go out to the barn just to have the goats scream at me, the rooster’s crow and the geese carry on because they are hungry. The barn is where I am the most at home, I could sit in the barn or pasture surrounded by goats and sheep and be the happiest girl on earth. I think the most relaxing place in the world is sitting on a milk stand milking a goat as she happily chows down on her grain.

Some people think that farmers are in it for the money, that they don’t care about their animals, but they do. We do everything we can for these creatures that are so much more than our “meal ticket”. These animals are my life, my livelihood and most of them are my pets. It sounds corny, but they are my friends.  

In today’s day and age people are so separated from agriculture, they get their facts from people that have no idea what it means to live on a farm. If you really want to know what farmers go through talk to one. I am sure they will tell you about everything they love about farming, caring for animals, feeding the world. They probably won’t talk to you about the loss and the pain they feel when they lose an animal despite their best efforts, it’s not just about losing money and an asset, to most farmers it’s about losing more than that.

I am part of something so much bigger than the typical 9-5 office worker, I am part of an industry that feeds the world, I am part of the only 2% of the population that wakes up early, works their butt off and goes to bed late just to make sure everyone has food in the grocery store. So yes it’s hard, yes sometimes I want to give up, but I don’t and I have a feeling I won’t. Not anytime soon.

I like to believe I give my animals the best in life and someday I will cross the rainbow bridge into a pasture with all my critters that are gone too soon. I hope I don’t have to take any paper work with me or Buffy will be there eating it out of my hand!