It’s August now, and I’m aware of the passage of time. BP’s time is coming. She is enjoying her summer of green grass on the big upper pastures, but she will not be suffered another winter. Before the time comes, she will be moved in to the back barn yard for a few weeks. She has lived her life, before me, as a professional dairy cow. She will end her days with the one baby with whom she ever got to bond and keep, Glory Bee.
I’m a sentimental fool for a farmer, but this is how the cow who taught me everything I know about milking is going to leave this world.