I drove to work one morning a couple of months ago
knowing that Dakota was very sick and I expected to find her, separate
from the other milk cows, in the pole barn. Allison had sent me an email about that. Twice my phone rang that previous night and both times, my heart
sort of sank. Dakota is older. Allison owns her and she is dearly
loved, a favorite, a pet. I was very happy to hear from telemarketers that
night. A phone call about Dakota would have been bad. Upon arrival I fed
the milk cows, counted them, put Grenadine--a young heifer who'd
slipped out, under hot wire, to graze hay with the milk cows in the lane--back
up in her paddock. Then I walked to the pole barn and flipped on the
light.
I expected to find Dakota. And she was there. I didn't expect to find her wrapped up. She was swaddled in a quilt, handmade in deep blues with very tiny flowers scattered
over the patchwork. Clearly, Allison had taken the quilt off her bed and
had been down in the middle of the night to make sure Dakota wasn't
cold. And that's exactly as she was now. I don't think she'd moved,
except to lay down, since being covered. The house lights were off and I
knew Allison was sound asleep, or else she'd be standing next to me. So
I was pretty sure Dakota had been snuggled under Allison's quilt for
quite awhile, staying still and keeping warm. The quilt was so dear and
unexpected, but the fact that she hadn't moved enough to throw off a
blanket struck me as a bit ominous. Tears stung my eyes but I blinked
them back and kept moving. There was a lot of work to get done.
When
Allison showed up in the milking parlor, two hours later, I could
hardly meet her eyes. But we were going to have to acknowledge the
situation and we're both professionals. So I asked how she was doing and
told her I could hardly keep from crying, just to ask. She said she
cried all night long. Dakota is old for a working dairy cow. Two of her herd mates were scheduled to be culled
later this week. No one was speaking the c-word.
This all happened a couple of months ago. Dakota recovered from all that---ugly mastitis with a lick of pneumonia on top. But the writing was on the wall and we all knew it. When she started kicking badly a couple of weeks ago, it was time. Though no one wanted to say it out loud. And, bravely, it was Allison who made the call. She's said almost from the time I started working on the farm, "Dakota is going to have to go and I don't want her to go suffering. I want her to go well." People say these kinds of things about their pets: We'll know when its time. We don't want him/her to suffer. We'll do the right thing. But few ever follow through with that promise. Allison, though, her integrity runs deep. She is cold steel serious about loving these cows. Even when love asks the hardest thing.
Allison cried everyday for a week before Dakota left. She had to leave the farm, her home, and even our town entirely the day Dakota was loaded for the abattoir. In preparation Allison told us that she understands she is loved and everyone cares, but no one is to mention Dakota's name for awhile because she can't stop crying. It hurts too much. On Dakota's last Friday we pulled her, her daughers, and her granddaughters out for a family portrait. That is what Allison wanted. That's what we did.
After that, though? No one has said much else. Life is moving along on the farm. True winter is about to set in with ice and the carrying of buckets of warm water and the other extra chores winter brings. No one says much but you can see it in Allison's eyes: "That cow is only one of them who ever loved me."
Been there and done it. Still heartbroken, but mending. THanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteWhat a touching post... tears here.
ReplyDeleteWhat a heart-wrenching story! It brought tears to my eyes. I hope that some day Allison will be able to look back on that family portrait and smile without the tears. I know that will be a long time in coming, though. I do hope that one of Dakota's daughters or granddaughters will decide to take up the standard of love that Dakota carried for Allison all these years.
ReplyDelete