Listening to Logan’s phone call brought back a lot of “farm” memories.
We moved from the city to a farm when I was 14. The really nice part of farm life is you get to drive when you’re 14. I lived there for five years, the longest I had ever lived anywhere during my childhood.
My first wake up call to farm life was a cow we had that no longer produced milk. I saw her in a truck being driven away and found out she was headed to….......well I just can’t say it. I simply could not understand why we couldn’t keep her….she’d make a great pet! But alas, that’s not the way it’s done. Produce or else!
Obviously I was not “farm” material. I certainly admire those who are. Myself, I’m way to sensitive, or thin skinned as they like to say. It’s also a hard, back-breaking job and you do lose a few animals, we won‘t go there….but there’s also some really fun times.
One of my fondest memories (I still laugh when I think about it) is about my calf. She was given to me for 4-H so she was my “pet“. She grew up and had her very first baby. Being a first time mother she was very protective and wanted that baby at her side at all times. This worked out just fine until her baby grew big enough to run and jump. That poor mama was beside herself trying to keep up with her baby, which she couldn't do.
It truly was funny watching her. She was just to big to even begin to keep up with her baby. She’d bawl, baby ignored, she’d bawl some more, baby would jump and run that much faster. I really felt sorry for her…….even though I was laughing.
The next year or so she had her second calf. This time she just watched knowing full well her calf wasn’t going anywhere. My fun was over.
Have a blessed day…..and don’t think about where your meat comes from :)