brown swiss, bloodlines, and broken windshields

Last night was supposed to be my night to visit Design, my calf housed at a friend's farm a few towns away. Unfortunately, last night instead was spent on the phone with insurance and autoglass replacement, after a sizeable stone took out my windshield. I caught myself thinking, ugh... why do I bother?!
This answers that.
To say that I love cows is an acurate statement, but I especially LOVE Brown Siwss. Just like dogs and cats, there are breeds of cows, each with a characteristics that differentiate that breed from all others. I refer to Swiss as the big brown cow, not to be confused with Jersey's, the small brown-ish cow, or Holsteins, the big black and white cow. While I ventured into Holsteins for a year back before I was 10, I have otherwise been entirely devoted to the big brown cow. They tend to be associated with having big ears, a kind disposition, being slow moving, slow thinking, and in general, a mild mannered cow. They are the cows who get their heads caught in the corner brace of a fence in the field while reaching for an illusive patch of grass. (true story).
If you own or work with Swiss however, you probably learned fairly quickly not to underestimate them. I can personally attest to dragging and/or chasing my fair share of these "docile" bovines to or from various pastures, up and down country roads, and through or around numerous show rings. They tend to appreciate their food- often chasing smaller cows away from the feed bunk, and they do not appreciate unexpected changes to their plans- such as being trained to lead for the shows. Unfortunate, since I own cattle for the sake of showing them.
While I love all Brown Swiss, I do have a favorite; Dee. She was my original purchase- the first cow I ever owned. Photos of Dee outnumber photos of my family 3 to 1 in my apartment. And to clarify, she's not the Brown Swiss with the head stuck in the fence. She's the other kind. The kind that seem to be a little too thoughtful, and entirely too stubborn for my own good. She's the foundation of my blood, sweat and tears venture into owning and raising my own cows. She'll turn 12 this September, and while she's slowed down, no one accuses her of mellowing. I like to think she's feisty. My parents, who are Dee's primary caretakers now that I'm in NY, have another word to describe her. Either way, after an 11 year investment, Dee is part of the family.
About a year and a half ago, Dee wasn't doing so hott. She had been pregnant and aborted multiple times, was slow walking around due to complications of a difficult calving a couple years prior, and in general, she had reached the point where we were questioning whether keeping her around was the right thing to do. I had just sold her last daughter to another farm, but I kept her calf named Design, who could carry on the bloodline. Even so, it wasn't a decision I wanted to have to make. Fortunately, Dee took to a last ditch effort to get her bred (pregnant), and with fingers crossed, we anxiously awaited December, and Dee's due date. This winter, I made plans to be home the weekend we expected the calf, and sure enough, Dori arrived problem free. It felt like the best Christmas present ever.
Several months later, my Dee family is thriving. Dee herself has pulled a complete 180, walking better, milking more, and reviving the complete personality we all know her for. Her daughter Dori placed 3rd in a nice class of winter calves at the Spring Dairy show in NY earlier this month and is growing like a weed. I even have Dee's granddaughter, Design, housed at a friend's farm here in central NY. Being able to visit my cow without driving across states, and the anticipation of showing this summer is priceless.
All of this keeps me going, even when I can't quite get out to see the Swiss themselves. The excitement and anticipation, seeing years of hard work develop into better and better cows... this is what it's all about for me.

'til next time,