Singing to the Cows

My middle name is Ann.

My grandfather called me “Annie.”

These stories about my adventures

are dedicated to

Emma, Hiathan, and Hayden.

I hope someday,

you will read them

to your own children.

They are true.

The Farm House on Elder Avenue in Hanford, California

The old screen door slammed hard as Annie flew outside.

No need to replace that spring yet; it worked just fine!

Annie felt the warmth of the sun in her bare feet before it ever touched her face.

The dark grey paint of the wooden porch corralled the heat

and radiated it upwards into the soles of her feet.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day!” Annie said out loud.

The dew evaporated quickly in summer's heat,

and a biting metallic scent merged curiously with the aroma of dairy cows,

creating that precious perfume that Annie loved,

the fragrance of morning in the countryside.

Annie closed her eyes for a bit and lifted her face to the sky,

basking in the sunlight.

There was no place on earth she'd rather be

than right here on the ranch!

Great Grandma Emma and Great Grandpa JJ had gotten married

on December 4, 1909,

and he had built this house very soon after.

Three children had been born in the very bedroom where Annie slept,

including Annie’s grandmother, Mary.

Annie loved this old house,

and she loved spending time on the ranch with her great-grandparents.

There was so much to see, to hear, and to do!

A girl could never be bored here!

Eyes still closed,

Annie quieted her mind and listened

for the comfortable cacophony of farm sounds.

It was a chorus, with each part coming from a different direction.

She could hear the buzzzzzzz of the bees

working the alfalfa blossoms on the other side of the pasture.

Far out in the corn field,

Grandpa was digging an irrigation ditch

and Annie could feel the rumbling bass chunk-a-chunk

of the old red tractor tickling her tummy.

The chickens chucked and clucked.  

One speckled hen proudly proclaimed the arrival of her morning egg,

while another scratched and scrambled in the garden for bugs.

A grasshopper's wings made a ZZZzzzzzzitty sound

as he did his best to get away from a snapping beak.

Annie cocked her head, one ear up, and continued to listen.

There! A meadowlark warbled.

It probably had a nest full of babies in the field nearby.

Then Annie heard a dog bark far in the distance.

The morning song finished with the big old gander honking like crazy,

and Grandpa shouting to Duke to

"leave those danged geese alone!"

She opened her eyes and laughed out loud. 

A neighbor had given grandpa the pup after he'd been found abandoned

out on the old dirt highway.

He was just a few months old.

A feisty terrier with brown spots, Duke just didn't seem to be cut out for farm life. 
He was always getting into trouble!

Duke LIKED to dig holes

but he LOVED to chase Grandpa’s gander! 

That gander was a wicked three times the height of the pup.

He'd lower his orange beak and hiss and flap his big wings,

and Duke would just bark and run in circles,

and worry that mean ole gander until it wheezed in exhaustion!

Grandma and Grandpa had indoor plumbing,

but when you were working outside, your feet got dirty

and in order to keep the floors in the house clean,

people were expected to use the old outhouse. 

The outhouse was a tiny building where you went to use the toilet.

Inside, was a board with a hole cut into it.

There was a wire on the wall where a roll of toilet paper hung. 

There was a moon-shape cut into the front door so the light could shine in. 
Sometimes if nobody was around,

Annie would leave the door wide open

and look at the beautiful countryside while she did her business.  

It wasn’t much different than today’s toilet.

You’d just hop up and sit on the hole and go. 

And you didn’t have to flush!

Sometimes Annie looked down into the hole. 

It was deep and dark and smelled like dirt

and you could hear flies buzzing down there.

Annie was always worried a fly would bite her rear-end

when she used the outhouse!

But she used it anyway… with caution!

Annie was afraid of Grandpa’s gander.

Grandma told Annie that a gander is a male goose.

He was nearly as tall as she was

and every time she went to the outhouse,

he would chase her, beak open, saying,

“SSssssssss!  SSSSSssssss!”

and flapping his wings at her.

She’d run to the outhouse and slam the door shut

and then she’d call Duke,

who would come to her rescue!

Barking and growling,

Duke would chase the gander away so Annie could come out of the outhouse. 
Duke ran so fast,

sometimes Annie imagined he was an airplane pilot!

She imagined him all dressed up and flying his own plane,

Swooping down, yelling,

“Here I come to save the day!”

just like Mighty Mouse.

Annie chuckled at the thought of Duke flying a plane.

Then she hopped down the porch steps,

skipping every other one.

There were seven in all, and at the bottom,

she bent down to pet Mickey,

the old black farm dog that’d been there longer than she'd been alive.

She could feel scars under his short black fur

where he'd caught some barbed wire years ago

while chasing a pack of wild dogs off the ranch.

She also felt  a few warts that she hadn't noticed yesterday.

Those danged things just seemed to pop up overnight!

"Well Mickey, looks like Duke's in trouble again! 

Maybe you'd better spend a little more time with him

teaching him what's expected of a good old farm dog like you!"

Mickey rolled his bloodshot eyes open and looked up lazily,

skin pushing against her hand as he savored the petting.

Then he slowly laid his big head back down in a puff of dust and dozed,

moving only to snap at the occasional pesky fly.

Annie pushed her face into Mickey's neck and hugged him.

His fur was hot from the sunshine, and she loved that old dog smell. 

Annie breathed in deeply as Mickey let out a big old sigh.

He didn't put up with a lot of attention from anyone but her.

This young wild human seemed to know just when he needed her touch. 

Mostly Mickey just did his job,

protecting the ranch and its occupants,

barking a warning when strangers approached,

and getting fed his nightly ration of dry Purina Dog Chow

mixed with whatever was leftover from supper.

Sometimes, the result was a stinky dog fart 
like the one that just wafted up and blasted her, 
and she stood up, giggling!  
"Dang Mickey, that's awful!"

 

She waved the air in front of her nose and laughed. 

He looked up at her from under his eyelids,

gave a doggie grin,

and plopped over onto his side into the dust.

Annie stood up and hopped back up the steps,

then studied them keenly.

They were made of wooden planks,

and were pretty well worn smooth with age.

The steps and house had been painted several times,

but the sun was harsh here in the Valley, 
and the steps were once again peeling. 
Grandma had asked Grandpa to repaint them this summer,

and Annie was sort of sad about that.

She liked the way the peeling paint and occasional bare lumber felt on her feet; 
sort of rough and scratchy.

She rubbed her foot on the wood 
just as Grandma appeared at the door

 with the egg-basket.

 

"Girl, why do you do that? “

“You're going to get a splinter one of these days and then you'll stop!"

Annie noticed Grandma didn't tell her NOT to do it. 

Her folks rarely told her what to do or not to do.

They figured the best way for a child to learn was the hard way,

and Annie often did.

Like the time she was told not to pick up that wild kitten last month,

and she did it anyway, 
and it bit her thumb near clean through!

Annie grinned at her grandmother and hopped down to the next step.

Grandma handed her the basket and said,

"Go gather the eggs, Girl,

and leave those with x's on 'em underneath the speckled hen.

She's sittin'. We’ll have baby chicks soon!"

 

Annie took the basket and hopped back down the steps, 
skipping two this time. 
She landed on both feet on the concrete slab

right by the place her daddy had written his name on the day they poured it. 

She moved her feet and read the name,

“Marvin Eugene Turner.”

For a moment, she wondered where he was and what he was doing,

but the thought quickly passed,

and she continued to skip down the dirt lane to the barn,

dust flying in her wake,

She sang out loud as she skipped,

"Charlie Chaplin went to France

to teach the ladies how to dance.

First the heel, then the toe,

then the splits, and around you go!"

At the end, she twirled around, swinging the basket out sideways.

As Annie got near the big barn, she could smell the cows again.

Some folks didn't like that smell, but Annie did!

It always reminded her she was home.

When she drove to the ranch from her mother's house in Los Angeles,

no matter how soundly she was sleeping,

the smell would awaken her when they neared the Valley. 

When her mother screwed up her face at the smell,

Grandpa would chuckle and say,

"Why, girl, that's the smell of money!" 

She wasn't sure exactly what he meant,

but she knew must be a good thing,

because that smell made her and Grandpa both feel so happy inside.

Annie's nose itched and she sneezed.

A dozen pigeons scattered from their roosts in the rafters 
and began frantically seeking an exit.

A single grey feather drifted down,

and Annie jumped up to catch it.

"Catch a feather, catch a dream!"

She learned that from her Grandma.

Annie had a lot of dreams.

She fully expected they'd all come true

because she had a shoebox full of caught feathers.

She kept them under her bed.

She figured that way, the feather fairies could watch her dreams,

sort of like in a movie theater,

and they'd know exactly what she wanted.

She carefully placed the feather in her pocket,

then continued out the back door of the barn and into the henhouse.

The henhouse was empty

except for the speckled broody hen hunkered down on her straw throne

on a nest full of eggs.

The hen had been sitting for nigh on three weeks now,

and Annie expected they'd hear the peep of chicks any day now.

Annie slowly walked up to the hen, gently talking.

She reached underneath, and pulled out a warm brown egg

with a big penciled "X" on it.

She knew Grandma wouldn't like her doing this,

but ever since Grandpa had shown her how to listen 
for the pipping chicks inside, 
she just couldn't resist.

Annie brought the egg up to her nose and smelled the warm shell,

then held it up to her ear and listened. 

Nothing. 

She stealthily slipped the egg back under the hen,

then around went to the other nests,

gathering eggs from each and placing them carefully in her basket.

Three dozen eggs today.

There'd be flan after supper tonight, for sure!

 

Annie didn't skip on her way back to the house.

She used to, but last month, she tripped on a rock and fell.

Grandma wasn't as upset about the broken eggs

as she was Annie's skinned knees,

but Annie learned a lesson about responsibility,

and swore never to skip with the eggs in hand again. 

She carefully put the basket down on the porch steps,

then grinned as one of the cats curled around her ankles,

wanting to be petted. 

Kneeling, she began to pet the purring cat,

and noticed that this one had recently had kittens.

"Grandma? I'm going to the haystack to find the new kittens, ok?

I'll be back in time for lunch."

No answer generally meant everything was fine,

and Annie headed out to the haystack.

Do you want to know what happened at the haystack?

Milking the Cows

The Carvalho Ranch was small, a mere 50 acres. In years past it had been three times that size, but over time, as their children grew and left home, the property had been split up and sold off until 50 acres remained.  Fifty acres was as big as the moon to a small girl like Annie, and there was plenty to do, see, and explore during those sizzling summer days out on Elder Avenue.

Before Annie was born, Grandma and Grandpa had a dairy of over 100 Holstein cows. Holsteins are a breed of cow that originated in Europe. These gentle cows were bred in the Netherlands to obtain animals which would make best use of grass, the area's most abundant resource. They eventually evolved into an efficient, high-producing black-and-white dairy cow. Annie loved cows in general, but she thought Holstein cows were especially pretty! She loved their comical antics and their sweet personalities, and she loved the way they seemed to enjoy her company as much as she enjoyed theirs! Betsy was her favorite cow. She had the most soulful eyes!

 

After their children grew up and left home, Grandma and Grandpa Carvalho could not take care of so many cows. So they sold most of them and now they had 20 cows and two bulls.

Annie asked Grandma one day, “Grandma, how do cows give us milk?”

Grandma told her “Well Annie, it’s a long involved process. Do you think you can keep up if I tell you?

Annie nodded and Grandma explained.  “Annie, a cow eats a lot of food! Each cow eats about 100 pounds of feed per day. That’s more than you weigh!  They eat a combination of hay, grain, and silage. Silage is fermented pasture, or grass. It’s something like when we ferment cabbage to make sauerkraut.”

Annie wrinkled her nose. Now she knew what that stinky stuff smell was that the cows ate sometimes. “I wonder why they like to eat that? It smells something awful!”

Grandma smiled and continued, “A cow can spend up to 8 hours a day eating. Grass is difficult to digest, so cows regurgitate it and chew it some more, so the enzymes in their saliva help break it down. This is referred to as "chewing cud". That’s why when you watch the cows, they are chewing, and chewing, and CHEWING!”

Annie asked, “What’s regurgitate mean?”

Grandma laughed, “It means they throw it up into their mouth, then chew it some more!”

Annie squealed, “EEeeeeewww! GROSS!”  Annie looked at Betsy, who loudly burped!

Annie giggled, then listened to Grandma.

“After the cow chews her food, it passes into the stomach. A cow's stomach is referred to as a ruminant. It has 4 compartments. People think a cow has more than one stomach, but really, there are just 4 parts to their one stomach. They are called the Rumen, the Reticulum, the Omasum, and the Abomasum.”

Annie crossed her eyes and rattled her head, “Grandma! I’ll NEVER remember all that. It hurts my brain to try!”

“Don’t worry. It’s not important that you remember. But my story is almost over, so keep listening.”

“After the food has been digested in the stomach it then passes to the small intestine. After the digested food enters the small intestine, the nutrients are then absorbed into the bloodstream and carried to the udder. Once in the udder, the nutrients are transformed into milk.”

Annie asked, “Grandma, do ALL cows give milk?”

“No Annie. A cow has to have a calf, and that causes her to make milk. The calves are allowed to suckle their mothers for a time, and then they were weaned to a bottle. Their mothers will continue to give milk as long as the milk is collected each morning and each evening without fail.  Some cows don’t have to have another baby for up to six years! But most give birth once a year. You can tell when it’s time for a cow to have another calf, because the milk begins to dry up and it has a funny taste.

“And now you know how cows make milk!”

Annie grinned. “Thanks Grandma. It sounds complicated.”

Annie loved feeding the calves. The bottles looked a lot like a baby bottle except they were really big!  Grandma would fill the bottle with warm milk and Annie would take it to the calf stall. The calves would be so excited, they’d push and shove each other to get to the bottle. Sometimes they’d miss the bottle and get ahold of Annie’s fingers and suck. They didn’t have teeth so it didn’t hurt. In fact, it tickled like crazy! She’d giggle and say, “No, you silly thing!  Milk comes from your bottle, not from my fingers!” They’d just stick out their long pink tongues and roll them around until they found the nipple again. Annie would rub their heads while they drank. Their fur felt so soft and warm.

Each morning before the sun came up, Grandma would turn on the light in the kitchen and scald some milk for Annie’s cocoa and Grandpa’s Portuguese coffee.  Annie’s room was right off the kitchen. She would see the light from under her door. Then she’d hear Grandma and smell the hot milk and she would begin to stir. Some mornings she stayed in her warm bed, but this morning, she wanted to go with Grandma to do the milking.

Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she called out, ‘Grandma? Is it time to milk?”

Grandma replied, “Go back to sleep, Annie! It’s too early to get up!”

But Annie threw back the pile of quilts and hopped out of her bed onto the cold wood floor. “Dang, that floor is COLD!” she exclaimed.

Shivering and scurrying, she yanked her flannel nightgown up over her head  then put on a warm undershirt. She lifted her blue jeans off the chair at the side of the bed, and sat down on the shiny seat. “Brrrrrr! This seat is cold too!”

Wiggling to stay warm, Annie put one foot, then the other into her blue jeans. She stood up and pulled them on. The fabric was rough and cold on her skinny legs. She took her red checked shirt off the back of the chair, where she had hung it last night before she went to bed. She put it on, buttoning each button securely.

Hopping like a bunny, Annie rummaged through her drawer and found the sweatshirt that used to belong to her father and put it on. Next, she pulled on her socks. Her little toe stuck out of a hole. She wiggled it back in and thought, “I better show this to Grandma so she can fix it.” 

Annie got down on her hands and knees and pulled her boots out from under the bed. She sat on the chair and put on the boots, lacing them nice and tight.  She usually went barefoot, but it was cold this morning, and sometimes the floor of the barn was pretty dirty.

Annie made her bed. She pulled up the sheets, then the quilts and brushed out all the wrinkles. She fluffed the pillows and put them in their place, then grinned at how nice it looked!

Grandma insisted that Annie make her bed every morning. It was expected of her and she didn’t mind doing it. Each person on the farm had jobs to do, according to their age and ability. When everyone worked and helped each other, life was easy. Besides, Grandma and Grandpa wanted her to grow up to be responsible. Grandma said that was a word that meant she was dependable, reliable, and trustworthy. Those were all things that Annie hoped she’d be when she grew up.

 Once she was completely dressed and her bed was made, Annie stumbled into the kitchen where Grandma had a cup of hot cocoa waiting on the table.

“C’mon girl, if you’re going with me. The cows won’t wait.”

Annie blew on the hot cocoa and carefully sipped it while Grandma pulled on her rubber boots and her thick wool sweater. Annie watched as Grandma buttoned the sweater up to the very tip-top and tied a scarf over her head. Then she peeked into her bedroom, where Grandpa was snoring away. Annie giggled. He snored LOUD, and she wondered how in the world Grandma got any sleep?

Usually, Grandpa was up early to do the morning work, but today was his birthday, so Grandma quietly closed the bedroom door and put her finger to her lips. “Shhhh… let’s let Grandpa get an extra hour sleep this morning.”

Annie and Grandma walked through the dishwashing room. Grandma switched off the light as they left the house. The cool air chilled Annie’s face as they walked out onto the front porch. Annie looked up. The stars were still twinkling in the black sky. It was not yet dawn, and all Annie could see were silhouettes of the barn and the big oak trees in the pasture. Annie inhaled deeply, taking the cool morning air into her lungs, and then she began to chant the milking song she’d made up,

“Cow, cow, pretty little thing!

Give me your milk while I sing-a-ling-a-ling!

I’ll sing a song and you sing a moo;

You moo to me and I’ll sing to YOU!”

Grandma chuckled as she lit the lantern and they began walking out to the road. “Girl, you’ve always got a song to sing!” 

Annie heard the cows mooing in the distance. As soon as the cows saw her come out the screen door, they’d start walking to the barn.  They knew it was time to be fed and to be milked. Annie knew that by the time she and Grandma got to the barn, all of those cows would be waiting!

Annie loved this time of morning. The world was so quiet and still. She could hear their footsteps in the dusty road as she and Grandma headed out past the stables. She could hear the doves cooing in the rafters before she could see them. Soon they were there, and Grandma hung her lantern from a hook on the wall.  The old wooden barn was huge, and the tiny lantern cast an eerie light, and made grotesque shadows on the wall. Annie was glad she wasn’t alone in the barn when it was this dark. She felt much more comfortable there during the daytime.

Grandma dragged several bales of hay into the center of the floor, near the stanchions. Then grabbing the cutters from the nail where they hung, she neatly clipped the wire on each tightly packed bale. The hay bales burst open like seedpods, and a sweet smell filled the air.

Annie took her place by the stall gate and waited. The cows were right outside now, mooing and shuffling their feet, anxious to eat their breakfast! Grandma nodded at Annie. Annie pushed up the board that held the stall gate closed and shoved the door open. The cows came pouring into the barn in an orderly fashion. Each knew her place in the stalls, head pushing through the wooden stanchion.

 

The stanchion was a simple tool invented to hold the cows still while they ate and while they were being milked.   The cow’s head when through the hold, then the loose board was pushed close to her so her big head could not be pulled out.

Annie gently pushed the board of the stanchion closed on each cow’s neck, being careful to walk far enough around each cow so as not to be kicked. Most of the time there was no worry about being kicked, but sometimes a cow would get frightened and kick out. They didn’t have great eyesight and when they saw movement behind them, they were afraid it might be a predator of some kind, a wolf or a wild dog.

Grandma pulled off slabs of hay with her pitchfork and threw them into the manger and the cows began happily chewing away.