Cupcake died yesterday. Named Cupcake because she was given to me for my birthday, she lived up to the sprightly name. She was more than a dairy cow who gave our family delicious, healthy raw milk. Cupcake loved to wander up into the yard and hang out with Laura and Clay while they went about their play, and we had fun watching her from the back window acting the part of an over sized family pet.
I think the memories that I'll hold closest are those made when J.R. and I milked Cupcake together. His two big hands bumped occasionally into mine and the peaceful sound of milk hitting the pail and creating a beautiful froth often compelled me to pour my heart and mind out to him. Many times I've wished to write a poem or book entitled "On The Other Side Of The Udder". I could never quite get past it seeming too humorous a title, and was sure I'd never be able to convey what I felt while milking a cow and talking with my husband. It makes me smile to think what you as the reader must be thinking now...The smell of fresh hay, the sound of Cupcake munching her feed, the milk hitting the side of the pail, a husband bound to a milking stool and forced to listen to a rambling wife.... :) Once again, Cupcake has made me smile.
Laura's first butter from Cupcake's cream
J.R. praying for Cupcake when she was losing her calf
God made us to be over the animals and caretakers of the animals, not animal rights activists. So for us, most farm animals come and go with nothing more than a mere, that's-the-way-it-goes-on-the-farm attitude. Not so with Cupcake. We'll miss her. She's buried beneath the apple trees.
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