Many a stories could be told of times gone by when I used to milk cows with my good pal, Ed. Looking back conjures up memory after memory of good honest belly aching laughter from times spent with him. He passed away a month after I was married. I remember him fondly and often and I will post some of my precious memories of him in due time.
Today's picture is (I'm guessing) from about 1996ish. The big black cow is Beauty and the little one is her fresh daughter, whom I affectionately named Bell. A lot of dairy farmers have this way of naming their calves with something that begins with the same first letter as their mother. Although, in pondering this, I believe that Ed and I had made up a few names of our own for those with numbers... names that were more fitting to their personality. For instance, he had 3 crazy cows we named "Dumb," "Dumber," and "Dumbest." But those are for another story.
If I remember correctly, Beauty had some history. She was bought at "The Sale Of Stars" where they roll out the red carpet and parade the cows in for sale. She was one of Ed's best milkers and also one of the most personable. I'm not sure how, but I believe she once fell into a well or something of that sort. They had to hoist her out and she was pretty banged up and had the scars to prove it. I liked Beauty. I never had to worry about her. She moved at a steady slow pace and never kicked. What a good cow she was.
As the lives of farm animals goes, her fate was met when she finally didn't breed any longer. She had a good long life. I think Ed and I both were teary-eyed to see her go. We both loved that cow and we both said our goodbyes to her at the same time.