Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Buttercup aka Jenny

The Jersey cow that Grandpa's gave to Mom on her birthday was very sweet natured. We named her Buttercup.

Every evening Mom would get the milk pail and announce. "Okay children let's go milk Buttercup." We would head for the barn and scoop some grain into the feeding trough while Mom took a rope and headed for the pasture to lead the cow inside.

Once she was tied in her pen John or I would stand behind her and hold her tail so she wouldn't swat Mom's face while she was milking her. Mom would get a little stool and sit down beside her and say "Easy Jenny" and then start milking. The ping ping of milk hitting the stainless steel pail soon changed to the sound of streams of milk being added to a pail of foamy milk. The cats would be sitting nearby waiting for their daily dish of fresh milk.

When we were done Mom would give the cats their milk, and set the pail in a safe spot while she let Buttercup back out to pasture. Then we would head back to the house where she would strain the milk into a gallon jar and set it into the sink with cold water to cool it off before putting it into the refrigerator.

Somewhere along the line we stopped calling the cow Buttercup at all and switched to only Jenny.

Then one day a neighbor stopped in and said they think they just saw Jenny down the road in someones Alfalfa field, and if she wants to, she can ride with her down to the field and bring her back. Mom looked into the pasture and saw that Jenny was indeed missing, so she fetched her lead rope and then told John and me to be good and take care of David if he wakes up until she gets back.

We stood by the window and watched her leave. We were soon bored in the house waiting for her and sat outside on the swing under the cedar trees so we can see when she's coming home. After what seemed like a long time we saw her coming with Jenny walking slowly behind her. They reached our land and Jenny decided it's time to head for the barn, and fast. She started off at a gallop with Mom dragging over the ground behind her trying to get the rope untangled from around her hands. When she finally got loose Jenny ran straight for the barn and Mom got up all bloody from being dragged and bad rope burns.

John and I were crying, and by the time she limped into the house so was David. She sat on a rocking chair to take care of him while John and I tried to wash the blood off her arms and get her all patched up.

She didn't work for the rest of the day. And called us her little heroes for doctoring and taking care of her till Daddy came home.


  1. What a great story . . .

    Thanks for stopping by my blog!

  2. Your poor mother!! I've never seen a cow run before. Did you drink the cow's milk and what do you drink now - does bottled milk (or milk in a jug) taste fake to you or is that what you're used to now? Your stories are so interesting!!

  3. Just like I used to remember too!! I can still see my dad sitting on that 3 legged stool and squirting those kittens that all stood around waiting for their turn.
    Thanks so much for stopping by!! I so love new visitors...


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