963: the stuff nightmares are made of

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this number causes me to have nightmares.  don't believe me?  ask melanie.  now, you might ask, why such a simple think as a number might cause me to break out in a cold sweat, hug a teddy bear, and curl up in the fetal position?  it's because this number brings back some of the most awful, terror-inducing memories i have of my college years.  it represents the epitome of pure evil.  it is the ear tag number of a cow.

now this isn't just any cow.  she's the reason why i have such an unbridled hatred of dairy cows.  my first experience with her happened to be during my very first milk shift after my training was done.  so here i am, flying solo, already pissed because two cows had bum rushed the gate and went on a wild romp around the dairy before being caught again.  and then this cow shows up.  a stupid little jersey cow.  she looked all cute and sweet, but that was all just a part of her plan to fool you.  while moving her pen up to the milk parlor, she decides to just flat out stop right in front of the barn.  no matter what i do, i cannot get this cow to move.  i try nicely at first, trying to coax her along.  then i try a slap on the rump.  then i try a tail twitch.  then i try a halter.  then i try a halter and a tail twitch.  basically everything but a cattle prod, and that was only because i didn't have one.  so twenty minutes later, this cow has still not moved.  oh, and did i mention it was pouring down rain?  i had to break down and go ask one of the senior milkers to help me move her.  i was in tears by that point.  the only thing that made me feel a little better was that it took two of them to get her into the barn.  i'm not going to go into details how, because it would probably piss off the animal rights groups.

this is also the cow that once decided to go into the milk cute backwards.  unless you've been to a dairy, this is a much bigger problem than you might realize.  the cutes leading to the milk stalls are made to be big enough for the cow to walk through, but small enough where they can't turn around.  this meant that i had to get the cow to walk backwards into the large pen again to be able to get her turned around.  this took about ten minutes to do, because cows really don't like walking backwards.  but i finally got her turned around to where she could now safely leave the milk parlor.  and how does she repay me?  by running by me so quickly that i barely had time to get out of her way.  and to make matters worse, she decided to try and body slam me into the wall.  i was able to get most of me out of harms way, but ended up sacrificing my wrist to do so.  the full 900 lbs of her furry smashed my wrist into the concrete wall.  i guess i ended up lucky, it didn't break.  but it was sprained for about 2 weeks.  which make my next few milk shifts just about the worst things ever since i had to do them one handed.  stupid cow.  i was glad when that one got sent down the road.  now who wants steak?