Being a daughter of a dairy farmer you learn to li


Being a daughter of a dairy farmer you learn to live with the grim smell of the cattle.  I remember one freezing cold morning I went waddling out with my father to mild those delightful cows.  It was about 7:00 in the morning.  My dad had awaken me up from my pleasant slumber at around 6:30 so I could get all bundled up for the treacherous outdoors.  When I got done dressing I looked like a stuffed pillow.  When we had made the walk from the house to the big red barn.  From where I was standing, at the bottom, it looked liked a mountain.  We went in and looked at all the machines in front of us. The machines made it look like I was in a science lab.  The smell of the cows was unbearable, if it hadn't been so cold outside I would have liked to get some fresh air.  
When my dad told me, in his deep piercing voice, to out by myself and let the cows in the barn.  Stepping outside I got a chill down my back.  I could feel my little button nose turning into a bright red little cherry, my chubby baby cheeks turning into little ripened apples, walking quickly to try keep my blood from freezing.  I ran towards the gate.  I was so used to climbing up and over it I practically hurdled right over it.  Even though it wasn't the sturdiest gate.  With a little quiver from me and the rumbling of the gate I landed feet first right into a pile of...a word I shouldn't have said when I was that young.  The cows bellowing with a hunger and their snow covered bodies just waiting to get inside.  Scattered all over, I ran through those cows, trying not to get knocked on my butt by their enormous hoofs.  When I finally lunged to the door.  Having to use all my might, my muscles starting to ache I flung open the door and ran right into the barn.  There I saw my dad with a little giggle coming out of his belly and a big smile showing his teeth he said "about time" in the most sarcastic voice he could make.
While all the cows started piling into the door my dad and I started throwing heaps of hay into the bunks to keep them occupied.  While the cows were getting settled into their spots, we locked them up.  The barn started to reek of the appalling smell of the cows.  My dad walked into the milk room where the big silver tank was right in the middle.  He started turning on all the machines.  The machines were so loud it sounded as if they were going to explode.  We were ready to milk.  My dad grabbed the sucker things that gets the milk out of the cows, he gave me some so he didn't have to carry them all. From then on I still don't know what they are called.  We went back into where the cows were the smell just surrounded me.  I felt like I was choking on it.  The nice clean barn had turned into a port-a- potty from all the cows just going where ever they pleased.  We went to the first cow.  I had never been that close to a cow in all my life.  Of course, I hadn't had that much of a life I was only 6.  My dad showed me how to put the sucker thing on the utter.  I figured that would hurt the cow but dad told me she would be fine.  You should have seen the milk getting sucked from that cow.  While she was getting sucked dry we went to the next cow, but before I handed my dad the sucker thing, he was going to show me how they used to milk a cow in the old days.  First he showed me, and then he was trying to teach me, but at the age of six I didn't quite comprehend things that well.  So, he decided to help me the first couple of times.  He put my hands on the cows utter, right above the teat.  The

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