One of the best memories I have of my grandparents is the milking. My grandfather had milk cows. In the morning and in the evening he had to milk thes cows, now matter the season or weather. Of course, I rarely make the trip out to the barn in the morning. In fact, I do not remember ever getting up early enough to be there when he was still milking. But nighttime was another thing. It was great fun to go out and and watch.
The barn was long and narrow. Along one wall was the stalls where the cows stood and along the other wall there were hooks where the milk cans hung. There was a funnel with a filter that Grandpa would put hay and grain into the manger for each cow. He would go to the door and call out the name of each cow. They all had their turn and would come when called. Rarely did he have to go out and get one.
For us kids it was kind of scary when the kids. When the cow would come in we would have to sit on the milk cans to be out of the way. I think we made ourselves more scared than it really was. In retrospect, those cows did not want to run into us any more than we wanted to be stepped on. Grandpa probably told us to get on the cans so that we would not block the walkway.
One of my favorite memories was the cats. Grandpa always had barn cats. Unfortunately they were also wild, or mostly wild. But kids are persistent and eventually we would find one that would let us carry or pet them.
When he was milking Grandpa would put milk out for the cats. Sometimes they would approach as he was starting to milk the cows. My grandpa had a great sense of humor. He could always find the humor in a situation.
When the cat would approach and we were there, Grandpa would shoot milk out of the cow onto the cat. Rarely did the cat run. Usually it just stood there, getting wet, and cleaning themselves off. Just picture a little cat, sprayed with milk, and cleaning themselves off. It was great.
