After the big three headed out the door for Tulsa and Luke got on the bus for school, I slogged around until the coffee was ready. I got the inside chores underway and told the remaining boys that I’d go out to milk Ms. Moo while they fed the other animals, hoping that the dogs would stay away.
Sounds like a plan, huh? The boys didn’t make it to feed the horses before I got out there, so I fed the ones in the pen and went to look for Ms. Moo and her baby. I’m thinking of calling the baby Cleopatra because she has those beautiful black-eyeliner eyes that are so common with Jersey cows.
Ms. Moo was rather disgruntled at seeing the doofus dogs behind me, and I shared in her disguntlement. (yeah, I made that word up, but it has lotsa syllables so it’s fun to say) Ms. Moo did the whole “putting her head down and kicking up dirt with her front feet” thing — and I tried to keep an eye on her to be sure I didn’t get in between her and the dogs. I hollered at the boys to call the doofus dogs — which was about as useless as running a vacuum cleaner on the Sahara. The dogs know that milking time can mean fresh warm milk getting spilled on the floor. They’re the buzzards of the milking barn.
Once Ms. Moo was in the stanchion, I brushed her down and told her what a great cow she is, how she’s so well-behaved and sweet tempered, etc. *just speaking it into existence* Seemed like she was settling in okay, so I sat down on the bucket and went to work cleaning her to be milked. So far, so good.
Ms. Moo enjoyed her breakfast while I milked her and little Cleopatra prissed around the dairy barn, egging the doofus dogs on to come and sniff at her. Sure enough, the dogs had to get just close enough to touch noses with her, which sent Ms. Moo into conniptions and resulted in me having a milk bath. Nice.
After intense fellowship with the dogs, accompanied by rocks that rolled, I began milking her again. Got a few more ounces out and then she began to cough — resulting in my second milk bath. Okay, we’ll try again. Back at it for a while longer and I’m making some serious headway on the process when she suddenly decides to relieve herself. Yet ANOTHER baptism. I got up from my seat and moved away until it was safe to return to my perch.
Allrighty now, the dogs are sidetracked elsewhere, her bladder is empty, so let’s get started!!! I get several ounces out when there is yet another southern movement. Yes, this is when I got my first round of freckles. I moved again, waited for the event to subside and tried again. A few more ounces and one of the dogs came over to sniff me. Ms. Moo kicked at the dog, nearly sending me off the bucket and into the fragrant darkness on the barn floor. I figured I’d better just hurry it up so I intensified my efforts to relieve Ms. Moo of more milk — when SPLAT! Another wave of freckles came my way. I exited my bucket chair, opened up the stanchion and released Ms. Moo and her baby back into the barnyard.
Yea, LORD, I stinketh.
But this is how I figure it: The day can only go up from here!!!!