June Dairy Month tribute

The farmer’s best friend is the old dairy cow.
If he owes a debt, she’ll pay it somehow.

She grazes the roadside to eke out her life
And works without wages the same as his wife.

The Jersey, the Holstein or Shorthorn her breed,
Hard work is her habit and thrift is her creed.

And when she comes home at night to the barn
You praise her or damn her, she don’t give a darn.

And as in her efforts to brush off a fly,
She happens to switch her tail smack dab in your eye.

She murmurs “Beg Pardon” politely and then
Goes right on chewing and does it again.

She helps with the living and keeps us all fat,
The hired man, the baby, the pig and the cat.

Then Dad takes the surplus to town and by heck
The creamery man gives him a wonderful check.

And when she’s ready to die of old age
The butcher writes finis at the end of her page.

Then back to our table she comes, I’ll be bound,
In prime ribs and steak at two bucks a pound.

“All Hail!” to the heifer, the steer, and the calf,
The surly old bull with his bangs full of chaff.

But when in the evening devotions you bow,
Give thanks to the treasure,
Your old Dairy Cow.

(Editor’s note: This column was courtesy of the Richland Observer in
June 1986, when creameries gave dairy farmers wonderful checks and
prime rib and steak was two bucks a pound.)
Printed in the Boscobel Dial this month.


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