Kind of a kicky kine

Yup, that's Lilith. She smacked me good on two fingers on the right hand, when I was trying to get her off the inflation tubing. Whoops, she kicked, caught my hand, and the back of my hand caught a metal post. Swollen knuckles, and I feel lucky (albeit a bit stoopid). I yelled, and put the inflation back on her, and tried my best to figure out how to get milk out of a horse, I mean, cow. I made one dumb mistake after another, and ended by losing my temper, and telling her rather strongly what I thought of her, while I let her out of the barn.

That was yesterday morning, and I went back in yesterday evening with Debbie, one of the supermilkers of the universe, and she had similar problems, minus the dumb mistakes. And this morning, Rusty (one of the other supermilkers, and more) came down and showed me how to milk a horse, I mean cow. Holy spumoni. She's a two-person cow, it turns out.

She's wonderful, Lilith is. She's a big healthy Holstein, in her first milking. And hopefully she'll unlearn her fighting. Me, too. I hope to unlearn my fighting. Fortunately, Rusty and Debbie are good at teaching. I feel bad, because she'd been making progress, learning to settle in, and then I come in with been-away-at-camp brains, and boom, lose it. At least I knew I'd been doing something wrong -- I'd been tying the training rope incorrectly, and basically milking her sans rope.

Okeydokey artichokey, I'm sure Lilith will learn, and I hope she learns faster than I do!
much love,
Kelpie