The freedom to be a cow

It’s not just Cheeky Girl who magically appears out of nowhere. I had to go down to the paddock after milking to check on the cows and found myself being stalked by a tall, dark stranger.

It’s a lot of fun just sitting, watching the cows. Real individuals, some are curious, some are timid, some haughty but, without exception, dignified.

There’s a fine balance in our interactions. Yes, we milk the cows but it is they who dictate the flow of our days, months and lives. Everything from wedding dates to annual holidays are chosen to avoid calving season, a time when all hands are focused on the safe arrival of the next generation.

The primacy of the cow is drilled into generation after generation of farmers, too. Young children learn that dinner comes a distant second to a sick cow, that playtime might well be drawing in the dust during fence repairs, while play dates sit between morning and afternoon milkings.

Dairy farming at its best is a partnership between a cow and her farming family. She ambles in from the paddock to milking twice a day. We provide lashings of the tastiest, healthiest food to sustain her good health, care when she needs it and the freedom to be a cow.

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