Can You Fit a Heifer Calf in a VW Bug?
Once upon a time, many years ago (1966), I worked on a dairy farm in Sussex, England. My two buddies, John and Paul (not THAT John and Paul!), had quit teaching agriculture to start a dairy. I was milking 75 Jersey cows a day. It was pretty exciting stuff for a city boy from Los Angeles.
About 10 years later, I was in Bayside on one acre of semi-rural land, living the “Back to the Land” dream, when I saw an ad in the old Tri City Weekly for a Jersey heifer calf, one month old. It was my wife, Siv’s, birthday. Why not get her a cow for a birthday present?
So, I drove my 1970 Volkswagen Bug to Arcata, paid $25, put “Rosie” in the back seat, and brought her home. Our 8-year-old son, Jonas, loved Rosie at first sight, took his sleeping bag to the barn, slept with Rosie and fed her a bottle of calf formula every day. I built a milking stall in the barn and when it was time, got Rosie pregnant; nine months later, it was game on! Milk, cheese, butter … we figured out a way.
When Rosie wasn’t producing milk, I would take her to a pasture on Ole Hansen Road, to be with John Giacamini’s herd. Rosie no longer fit in the back seat of my VW (which would have been a sight!). I put a leash on her and we walked together one mile on the Old Arcata Road.
That worked well for a few years until, one day, Rosie left her pasture, crossed the Old Arcata Road and went exploring. This caused quite a commotion, stopped traffic and almost got me arrested. Mr. Giacamini, the rancher, was not at all pleased and told me in no uncertain terms, that Rosie was banished from his herd.
Another situation that caused problems — and ultimately led to Rosie’s demise — was when she came into heat. Cows make it known that they are in heat in a very loud and vocal way, and it goes on constantly for days. Our once-friendly neighbors became rather hostile, and who could blame them? It was time for Rosie to move out. Another Tri City ad, and Rosie went to a good home in McKinleyville.
By the way, she left in a truck.
Robert Berg of Bayside sometimes misses his dairyman days.
