Dia is mhuire diobh go leir a cairde and welcome to my weekly Report.
Is there anything nicer than to see a herd of milch cows going out on a lush green field of grass for the first time in the season. There is something noble and tranquil about a milch cow. Dry stock are like teenagers all their life, for one thing they never lose their youth because they are bred to produce beef and it has to be tender so they are never allowed get old. On the other hand the milking cow lives on, the young buzz goes out of her. She has a calf every year, which develops a maternal instinct in her and because she lives on the farmer and herself get acquainted. They don’t all age in the same way. Like ourselves they differ in their temperament and ways. Some like to have you near them in the hope of getting a nice pat on the rump as they make their way to or from the pasture, others never trust you and will stay well inside the body of the herd where they obviously enjoy the safety of numbers. In our time there was no other way but to open the gap after milking and release the herd out on to the field where they often showed their glee but galloping off, especially if the field was sloped, how they loved to take advantage of it to enjoy a moment of freedom before starting to graze. Thus ruining a lot of the fine green grass. Thanks to modern methods and modern thinking, that is all changed now. Pastures are divided up into manageable paddocks and roads built where the animals will walk in formation, until they reach their goal. Even then a large paddock can be sectioned off by electric fencing , which is moved on as required, so that the precious feed is not soiled or wasted. When they first reach the pasture ,it’s as though their eyes are bigger than their bellies and they feed voraciously for a short while and then as if by some unknown order they all lie down and contently chew the cud and after a brief sojourn they’re up a feeding again. This goes on all day, with the milk building up in their udders, until they answer the call to return to the milking parlour to shed their load. But I still miss the sight of the herd galloping off into a field of fresh grass and throwing their tails in the air showing to all a sundry, their obvious relief at being relieved of many gallons of heavy, creamy milk. God is Good.
[read more …] “Eily’s Report – 4th April”
