The joys of cow ownership…

The last two weeks have been a bit of a blur because we had so many family things going on. May is known as the month of birthdays in our family. There are 8 birthdays in the month of May, and five of those birthdays fall between the 8^th and the 13^th. This year, we were celebrating my dad’s 70^th birthday and we planned a surprise for him by having my sister fly in from Luxembourg as well as some of our aunts and uncles and one of our cousins. He was blown away and it was definitely worth it, but it meant that for the first two weeks of May, it was go go go with the kids having many late nights and us constantly prepping and cleaning the house for all the different family gatherings. As much fun as it was, I was really looking forward to a nice relaxing week last week. I had even planned for the girls to go to my mother-in-law’s for a day so that I could enjoy a day of doing nothing. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans for my week. The week started off with both girls sick, coughing, leaky noses, and Cece had a fever to really round it out. Now after 5 years as a Mom, two sick kids isn’t enough to wreck my week. In fact, often it means the girls need a day of resting and watching movies which is when I am able to get a lot of housework done. The real wrench in my blissfully carefree week, was our beloved Buttercup. I got a nice crash course this week about some of the less glamourous sides of having a cow. The stuff they don’t put on the Instagram reels where the women are walking around effortlessly in their handmade dresses as they tend to their perfect gardens and farm animals.

For starters, Buttercup gets very impatient about getting her bowl of milk, which should be really fun when I start weaning her in the next couple weeks. There have been a few instances where she has been so excited about her milk that she knocks the bowl from my hands which leads to her getting milk all over the barn floor and sadly lapping it up before it soaks into the gravel. This is frustrating of course for her, but also for me as it generally ends up on my clothes as well. For those who have never smelt calf milk replacer, imagine a sort of sweet popcorn smell and that is pretty close to it. I never imagined that having a cow would actually increase the amount of clothes that I have to wash either from having the milk spilled on me, or her incessant need to chew my clothing. I now keep my flannel shacket as a barn shirt so that I am not constantly having to get changed every time I come back from the barn. Now I know the saying, no need to cry over spilled milk, but nowhere does it say no need to curse over spilled milk, as that has definitely happened.

The milk mishaps aside, I felt like I was getting a good handle on taking care of Buttercup. Now that she drinks out of a bowl, it is significantly less work. She also has a larger outdoor area now and is generally pretty content just sunbathing and munching on her grass clippings that Brent puts in her pen from the lawnmower. She still enjoys a nice chin scratch and of course we have to keep her pen nice and tidy, which means raking the gravel when she pees and getting rid of the poop. Having had dogs now for almost 11 years, picking up poop was not a big deal for me. In fact, hers takes less time because it is generally just one and you just take the big shovel and throw it in the wheelbarrow. Simple. Or at least, it was simple, until last week when I had a very unfortunate mishap. One day, after I had shoveled her pen and was walking toward the gate and I tripped over a hose that was on the ground. I didn’t drop the shovel or hurt myself but it was enough force to send the poop flying off the shovel and onto the chain link gate. Anyone unaware, cows poop stinks, it is also very difficult to clean off a chain link gate as it gets in everywhere. I first attempted with baby wipes, feeling confident that if they can tackle the biggest blowouts my babies had they could tackle this. I was wrong. All it did was make the mess bigger. I thought about using the hose, but then realised that would make the entire barn wet and we were due for some colder temperatures. I finally came to the reluctant realisation that I needed to let it dry, before I would be able to clean it off. Which meant we had to deal with cow shit being on the gate for a couple days. Ah, the joys of farming.

The poop fiasco however, was not to be my most challenging situation of the week. Brent was working long hours and even had to work late on the Saturday so I decided I would make a nice dinner for once he got home. I was going to make mashed potatoes, sausages with roasted peppers, gravy, peas and most importantly of all Yorkshire puddings. For those who have never made Yorkshire puddings, you need to get the muffin tins smoking hot in the oven before pouring the batter. I had timed everything out, and once my potatoes were boiling and my muffin tins were in the oven, I figured it was the perfect time to go and feed Buttercup quickly. The girls were watching a show, I mixed the milk and went out to feed her, which generally takes only 2 minutes…Buttercup had been in the barn all day because in the morning it had been snowing (thank you Manitoba spring), so when I opened the barn door I could tell she was eager to have the fresh air on her. The problem was that I was holding her giant bowl while trying to open the chain link gate, all while trying to get Brinkley back so that he wouldn’t make me spill the milk. This resulted in me opening the gate a smidge too wide and Buttercup busted out.

Now, Buttercup has not been tagged yet, meaning if she were to run off down the road or to another property, we have no way of identifying her other than saying, hey that looks like our cow. So there I am, standing with this bowl of milk having a “holy shit what do I do now” moment. I put the milk down in the barn in the hopes that it would entice Buttercup to come back in, but she was not having it. Finally, she was free! Brinkley got her riled up because he finally had someone to run around with, and man did they book it. One thing I never realised, is how fast a calf is. I knew the girls were inside, my oven was on, and I needed to get this cow back in the barn. I swear anyone who has known me since before I lived in the country, would have probably paid to have seen me desperately trying to herd this calf back into the barn. I know that cows don’t like loud noises so I was trying to speak to her softly, and gently, but when you are running after a calf, sometimes your gentle voice starts to fade. I had almost gotten her into the barn, just in time for Brinkley to coming running up and sending them both on a sprint again. She went through the pumpkin patch, thankfully we haven’t planted anything yet, although she did scare some ground nesting birds. Then she was ripping around the play structure kicking up her legs like this was the greatest day ever. Once I finally got close enough to her I managed to pet her, and slowly lead her back over to the barn and get her in there with her milk before securely closing the gate. After checking the gate about 3 times, I closed the barn door and went back to the house, where the girls were none the wiser. My poor muffin tins however, were extremely smoky when I pulled them out and I was forced to open a bunch of windows and turn the fan on.

I learned a few lessons this week. One, to make sure the path to the wheelbarrow is clear when cleaning out the cow pen. Two, make sure that you block the gate when you open it to get into the barn and three, cows are very fast. A bonus lesson learned is that no matter how many cute Instagram reels there are about owning cows, do not let that fool you into thinking that it doesn’t come with its own unique set of challenges. I am sure there will be many more and in two weeks we pick up our lambs, which will lead to a whole bunch of new experiences I am sure.