I Got Milk!

In terms of new experiences, last weekend was amazing because I learned how to milk a cow.  She was a mama whose calf had been born in the last 24-36 hours but had thus far been unable to suck.  I'm not sure which problem came first but she had particularly large teats that he was not able to fit into his baby mouth.  John made it sound as though her milk had dropped too suddenly and the calf hadn't been able to keep up with the amount she was producing.  We had to milk her by hand in order to relieve some of the swelling factor, and then we tried to get the baby to latch on but didn't have any luck.  In the end, we tube fed him some of the milk we had gotten from his mom so that at least she'd get some relief and he'd get some much needed food.

I've been thinking all week how to describe the sensation of milking a cow, and the closest thing I can compare it to working with a frosting/pastry bag.  I had to reach to the top of the teat and trap milk below the ring created by my thumb and and index finger and then squeeze it down as though moving icing to the tip of the pastry bag.  Once I got the hang of it, it was not that difficult to get milk; however, I got tired very quickly.  And while I couldn't get the correct angle with my right hand at all, the angle of my left hand meant the milk hit my hand on its way out and went everywhere.  Strange though it may sound, I do smile just thinking about the experience.  I think part of my sense of accomplishment goes back to a time I was at the fair in Billings and had the opportunity to milk a goat.  I was probably 8 or 9 and was too scared to try (and perhaps fail?), so I turned down the opportunity only to immediately regret it.  I don't know that I ever got over wanting to have a second chance.