By Silas Rassi
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Any dairy farmer knows that cows can be
very unpredictable. In my few years of working with these big animals, I have
occasionally gotten kicked, pooped on, and stepped on without warning. Most of
the time cows are quiet, good-natured animals. But if a cow gets frightened or
annoyed and begins to act up, it can do a lot of damage and make a huge mess.
In some situations, a cow can go through a traumatizing experience and become
aggressive towards other cows and humans as a result. A cow could even injure
itself to the point that it can’t be used for milking anymore. I was horrified
the day two cows fell into the milking parlor.
Everything started out normally that
eventful morning. I was going to be milking with my co-worker, Timmy. First, we
brought the herd of 16-20 cows around to the holding pen, as usual. Suddenly I
noticed four cows in the herd I’d never seen before.
“Hey, Timmy,” I called. “Are those the new
cows Philip bought?” Philip was our boss.
Timmy nodded, “Yeah. And watch out…some of
them can get really spooked!”
“Which ones?” I asked.
Timmy pointed to a brown-colored cow whose
wide, rolling eyes gave her a wild look. I peeked at her tag.
“Number eighty-nine,” I said aloud.
“She was really bad last time I milked,”
Timmy informed me.
I gave a wry smile, “We’ll just have to
make slow movements around her, I guess.”
We opened up the garage door and started
letting the cows into the parlor. Three of the new cows calmly filed in with
the herd, but I noticed 89 was definitely more jittery than the others. When I
gestured for her to go, she visibly jolted, and plowed into the other cows
going into the parlor.
I shook my head, “You’re right,
Timmy…she sure spooked all right!”
Timmy grinned. We closed the garage door
behind the cows and stepped down into the parlor pit. With our parlor, the
cows’ udders are eye level, with the milking machines slightly underneath the
concrete ledge that the cows stand on. There is a metal bar that runs the
length of the parlor at the height of the middle of the cows’ tails, which
keeps the cows from falling into the parlor’s pit.
Timmy and I settled into the normal task of
cleaning up the cows. I went to the front of the parlor and began wiping the
cows’ udders, while Timmy stayed at the other end and started spraying off the
cows’ hooves and legs. It wasn’t long before I noticed some scuffling noises
and major movement from the parlor’s other end.
What’s going on back there? I thought.
We had put 89 in second from last in the
line of cows, but now she had turned sideways and backed around the last cow.
She seemed somewhat nervous and kept shifting her legs back and forth.
“That dumb cow,” I thought darkly. “She’d
better quit misbehaving.”
I turned back to my task but was rudely interrupted only a minute later.
“Silas!” Timmy gave a strangled cry.
I whipped around to see 89 with one leg
dangling over the concrete ledge into the pit. She had slipped and fallen. The
crazy cow panicked and tried to pull her leg back up on to the ledge, but
instead dropped her other leg into the pit as well. Timmy and I stared in
horror as the cow bellowed and thrashed all her weight around which caused her
to slide underneath the metal bar, until her hind hooves touched onto the pit’s
floor while her front hooves stayed up on the ledge.
My heart was racing. “Timmy, should I call
Josh?” Josh was Timmy’s older brother.
“Yes! And call dad, too. Hurry!”
I whipped out my cell phone and called
Josh, who contacted their dad, Todd. At this point the other cows in
the parlor sensed something bad was happening to 89, which unnerved them.
What a mess, I thought, as the frightened
cows showered the parlor with manure.
It didn’t take long for Josh and Todd to
arrive. Todd glanced from 89 to the other cows as he took in the situation. He
left the parlor and came back with a big piece of cardboard.
“Maybe we can push 89 back up onto the
ledge,” said Todd, as he placed the cardboard against 89’s rear.
“One, two, three, push!” Todd yelled as he
and Josh and I strained against the cardboard.
This is never going to work, I thought as I
realized 89 was far too heavy.
Motioning to Josh, Todd said, “Go get us a
cart. We need something for her to climb up on.” Todd also left and came back
with a halter. He started tying 89’s head to the thick metal bar in front of
her.
“Hopefully this will keep her from moving
around too much,” he explained.
89 didn’t like the halter. She yanked and
jerked against it and began breathing heavily. I bit my lip.
She’s getting even more anxious, I thought.
Josh brought the metal cart into the pit
with a clatter. I tensed as he rolled it underneath 89. She shuffled her hooves
on the concrete floor. Todd tied her back legs with a rope and slung the other
end over the metal bar.
“If we pull on this rope while we push,” he
said, “it might help her climb up to the ledge. Okay, everyone, on the count of
three.”
Once more we pushed and heaved on her rear,
but she didn’t budge.
“What if we get a jack,” Josh suggested,
“and lift the cart with it? Then we could raise 89 up high enough on the cart
so she can shift her weight forward to get up on the ledge.”
“We could try it,” Todd said.
A minute later, Josh and Timmy were lifting
a heavy jack into the pit. Its wheels rattled and rumbled as Josh rolled it
towards 89.
Before Josh even reached 89, she suddenly
started thrashing her huge body around. Her legs scrabbled and slipped on the
damp concrete. I hastily thrust the cart away from her and Todd dropped the
ropes tied to her flailing legs. I stared in shock as the crazed cow bellowed
loudly and slipped her front legs below the concrete shelf.
“The halter!” I gasped. “Oh, my goodness,
she’s hanging herself!”
Sure enough, 89 was dangling from the rope
tied around her neck. Her big eyes rolled as her breathing turned raspy. Josh
and Todd leaped up to the ledge. Todd began yanking at the knot with his pliers
to untie the halter.
“Dad, we need to cut the rope!” Josh
yelled. After a few seconds of struggling with the knot, Todd agreed. With one
quick swipe of his knife, Josh sliced through the taut rope and sent 89
tumbling into the pit.
Amid the frantic yelling and 89’s wild
bellowing, the other cows pushed forward against the gate to try and get out of
the parlor.
“We need to get these cows out of here!” I
cried, “Timmy, come here.”
I was yanking down on the lever to open the
gate that would let the cows out, but they were pushing so hard against it, I
couldn’t open it. Timmy grabbed the lever with me and together we raised the
gate with a sudden jerk. It opened so quickly that all the cows stumbled
forward. Two of them fell while the other cows jostled around them.
I saw one of the cows stagger to its feet. I stared with cold horror as the
other cow started sliding, back legs first, down into the pit just like 89 had.
Her tag read 401.
“No! Not again,” I whispered. My legs were
shaking like Jello.
401 struggled to get out of her
predicament. Her back legs smashed into the wash pipe, breaking it apart with a
clatter. Her head caught a milker hose and sent it flying. Her huge body yanked
a milker out of its base, while she squirted manure everywhere. Josh and Todd
ran over to her and pushed her down into the pit.
Now there were two cows in the pit, and the
only way they could get out was the slotted steps at either end of the parlor.
The tops of the steps were serrated to provide grip for wet boots.
I thought, “Those cows could really slice
up their legs if they slip their legs in between those steps!” I prayed, “Oh,
God, please help us get these cows out of here.”
401 and 89 were crazed. I could tell just
by watching them search for an exit. As they looked for a way out, they wreaked
havoc on the milkers, hoses, and pipes in the pit. 401 went to the back of the
parlor, clambered up the steps without hurting herself too badly, but found
herself stuck. In front of her was a chemical crate. Immediately to her left
was a closed door that led to the holding pen. Behind her was the filter, the
milk receiving jar, the milk pump, and other sensitive milking equipment she
could easily damage if she started going crazy. Todd was panicking.
“If she starts kicking…” he spluttered.
“Quick!” He called to Josh, “Run around and get that door open.”
Within thirty seconds, 401 stumbled out the
opened door and Todd closed it securely behind her. Now only 89 was left in the
pit. She plodded towards my end of the parlor and hesitated at the steps.
“Oh Lord,” I prayed again, “please help her
out of the pit.”
89 tripped once or twice through the slots
but made it out unscathed. I followed her to the sliding door and closed it
behind her.
“Praise the Lord!” I breathed. My heartbeat
slowly transitioned to its normal pace.
“Well, we have some cleaning up to do,”
said Todd.
The parlor was a mess. The wash pipe was
broken apart, the milkers and their hoses were strewn about, and it looked like
we had at least 30 cow pies splattered everywhere. It took us over an hour to
clean everything up, but by the time we were done, I couldn’t help thinking, “I
can’t believe it! Nothing really got damaged.”
We brought the cows back into the parlor
again and milked all of them without any further mishaps. Several days later,
Josh screwed a plastic panel all along the edge of the concrete shelf, and
since then we haven’t had a single cow fall into the pit again.
I reflect back on that day the cows fell
into the pit from time to time. Everything started out normally that day. 89
fell in, and to my horror, 401 tumbled down a few minutes later. I
realize the situation could have been worse than it was. Both 89 and 401
could’ve seriously injured themselves when they fell into the pit. If they had
scratched their legs badly when they climbed up the parlor steps, their legs
could have gotten infected. 401 might have caused a costly repair if she had
damaged the milking equipment in the back of the parlor. The whole scenario
reminded me of how little control I have over life situations. That’s why I’m
so thankful I have God as my heavenly Father, who has everything in His
control. He cares about my big and small life problems and helps me through
them, just as He did the day the cows fell into the pit.
About the Author
Silas doesn't like writing very much, but he loves to read. He also finds equal enjoyment in playing the piano and birdwatching. Silas works on a farm and lives at home with his parents and eight siblings. He wishes all people could find the lasting fulfillment he has in God.