You Won't See Me Fall Apart

I watched the sun go down on the last day of 2017 just minutes after watching a cow die a slow, agonizing death as she choked on her own blood and saliva, after spending four exhausting days helping her stand up every few hours and trying to keep her hydrated and fed, and if that doesn't perfectly sum up the year I don't know what does.

The sun goes down over the turnip crop, New Year's Eve 2017.

The sun goes down on cows still waiting for their silage dinner, after the feed wagon broke down, New Year's Day 2018.

This first month of 2018 has been full of struggle. Broken down machinery. Another cow fell down in the paddock and hurt her leg so bad she had to be shot. Another cow having her last days of retirement as she slowly loses all her weight and her eyes go dull - we told the boss it would be better to shoot her but he's convinced she'll hold on long enough to be sent to the meat-works. She's suffering and it breaks my heart, she deserves better than this. They all do. 

"Old Jersey" on the left, our old retired cow, with one of her paddock mates "Nailly," who has a permanent limp from an infected foot.

Feeding silage to next season's heifers.

Today, my dad texted the boss to tell him we're quitting. He'll hand in his resignation letter next time the boss is on the property.

I don't understand why everything is always so hard. I love these cows. I don't want to leave them, not in the care of their heartless owners. I don't want to witness the cruelty but I don't want to walk away. I see the way they look at me when we come back to work after a weekend off. Their eyes ask why and I wish we never had to take any days off ever again because every time we do, they are hurt or sick or underfed and on Monday, they are afraid to go into the yard for milking. They won't understand when I walk out and never come back. I don't want to think about what will happen when we're gone.

Bringing in our "limpys" this morning - Grams, Candy, and Nailly. All have long-term/permanent injuries and require a lot of time in a close paddock where they can focus on eating and resting, without having to walk long distances to/from the milking shed.

"And I want it and I wanted it bad,

But there were so many red flags.

Now another one bites the dust.

Yeah, let's be clear, I trust no one.

You did not break me.

I'm still fighting for peace."