The last cow incident!

In the 1960s, my parents (Frank and Roseline) had a small mixed farm in St. Chrysostome, PEI. Our mixed farm was typical of other small farms in the Acadian community and probably PEI in general. The farm provided some cash flow from selling potatoes, milk, and beef. A mixed farm in those days also had the economic benefits of growing your own vegetables, meat (pork, beef, chicken), milk, eggs, and wool.  

Throughout the 1960s, we had 4 to 6 milking cows that produced sufficient milk for our family's consumption and sale to ADL in Summerside. In 1970, I was in grade 10. The farm was coming to an end, and we were down to one cow. I assume we were still milking this last cow (i.e. the only reason it was still around). 

The cows would spend all their time outside in a pasture in the summer. We would bring them to the barn only for milking. The cows would be confined to their stalls inside the barn for the whole winter. They got little exercise or fresh air from December to April. When we finally let them out in the spring, they would go wild, running around and behaving erratically. 


That spring in 1970 (or so), I had the task of letting the last cow out of the barn. For some reason, I decided to tie a rope around its neck so I wouldn't have to chase it down later to bring it back to the barn. Big mistake! As soon as the cow was out the barn door, as usual, it went wild and started its spring run. I wasn't going to let it get away, so I pulled hard on the rope, causing the cow's head to come down and hit the ground. The cow fell over and wasn't moving even with my prodding. After a minute or so, I was pretty sure the old cow was dead!

My father didn't seem too upset to see his last cow go. Maybe it was a problem solved! I'm not sure what we did with the deceased last cow. It's possible that it got buried in the "FXO animal cemetery" below the hill at the back of the cottage.  

The End.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The hayfork cable incident!

Image
Before my father (Frank a Xavier) moved back to St.Chrysostome to take over his old homestead farm, he lived across Canada. He worked as an accountant, bank employee, and army clerk (WWII). So, our Dad became the only farmer and part-time accountant we knew of in the community. Even though PEI is small, our Dad would often be away from home for 2 - 3 days on an accounting job. In the 1950s and 60s, the roads in PEI could have been better, and it wasn't practical to commute daily across the island. The solution to keeping the farm operating day-to-day was to have a hired hand -- my siblings and I were still too young to manage (and our mother had her hands full with seven kids plus her mother-in-law).  When I was about 10 or 12, we had Andre a Theodore as our hired hand. He was the son of Theodore a Pierre, our neighbour and farmer. Andre only had a few academic skills but had good experience with farm animals and current farming practices. He was a bit thick-headed, which sometimes...
Read more

The accidental demise of our neighbour's rabbit

Image
From the time I was six years old, I remember that we usually had a part-time helper on the farm. My father ran a small farm, but most of his income came from his self-employed accounting business. In those days, everything was books and paper, so to serve his clients, Papa would have to travel to their locations in all corners of PEI. Often, he would be gone from home for 2 - 3 days at a time. In the 60s, my three brothers and I were still too young to handle all the barn chores. So, we hired a local man (usually a neighbour). We had some interesting ones! When I was 8 -10 years old, we had Andre a Theodore as our main hired hand. He was our neighbour and a farmer's son. He was keen and had good farming knowledge from his life experiences. One thing that sometimes frustrated my father and amused us is that he had no education (e.g., he couldn't read, had math challenges for simple additions, etc.). But, in general, we enjoyed having him around -- he had a good sense of humour....
Read more

My pet pigeon

Image
This story does not have a happy ending (for the pigeon)! As a kid, some of my earliest memories are all the wildlife hanging around our old family barn in St. Chrysostome, PEI. There were the expected wild barn cats, mice, and rats. But I also remember birds -- especially the barn swallows and pigeons. The barn swallows nested in the barn's horse stable section, and the pigeons were primarily up in the hayloft. I can imagine that the barn cats always looked for a lazy or injured bird.  The memories and details of this event are mostly from my mother's story in later years. Apparently, a pigeon had flown into a barn window, and I had managed to capture the stunned bird before it could recover. Then, I tied a string to a pigeon's legs and declared it my pet. This idea of a pet bird might have come from my Meme. She kept a pet bird (budgie or canary) in a cage in our house.  I don't remember how the pigeon behaved while I had its leg tied. But I suspect it didn't esc...
Read more