Grandmother had bought a cow from a dairyman.
She was a Guernsey, gave excellent creamy milk. The man said the only
reason he was selling her, was that no one except a woman could milk her.
This was fine with Grandma, as she lived alone. When my brother was born,
she sold the cow to us. Mother and I would both milk her.
One evening, for whatever reason, Mom and I were not at home to
milk her. Anyone who has a milk cow, knows they have to be milked twice
daily, or begin to go dry. So Dad went to the cow lot and began to try to
milk her. Round and round they went. After several minutes he managed to
get a few drops of milk, but she was holding her milk up. Not being a
violent man, Dad decided to just leave her be.
Just after dark, a fellow comes by, talks a bit and finds out about
the cow. Say's he, "There ain't a cow, that I can't milk" So they light
the lantern, grab a syrup bucket and go to the corral. They tie old
Gurley, up to the fence and he begins trying to milk her. She kicks, gets
the fellow in the shin. So he backs off and kicks her. The war is on,
she kicks, he kicks. Finally she kicked the syrup bucket he is holding by
the edges and cuts his hand, then whirls her heels and centers the
lantern, that is sitting on the ground, it goes whizzing past both men
and over the corral fence.
Gurley did not get milked that night.
Often I think of wonderful milk that cow gave and remember rocking in
a chair, with a large glass jug, full of cream, till it became golden
Lou Anne Allen, Attended Moss Schools from the 3rd. - 6th. Grades.