Attribution: Photo by Phyllis Stokes
By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, joins the keeper in lamenting the demise of yet one more sign of spring—the “cow party” which was the day the cows, after a winter of standing in cramped stalls, were turned loose in the cow yard or pasture for an exercise opportunity.
First robin or Pasque flowers may be important signs of spring but nothing can really capture its essence like a herd of milk cows freshly released from their confining winter circumstance. There is the initial head-down acknowledgement followed by a couple of tentative stiff-legged jumps, and then it is off to the races with awkward cows raising their tails and leaping into a rocking-horse gallop, udders and ears flopping, necks stretched out and nostrils flaring.
As a child of the Canadian prairie, and the youngest of eleven—mostly boys, Phyllis has never seen a “cow party,” and spring was more likely signaled when her brothers put away their long underwear.
It is too bad that dairy farming methods have changed to pretty much eliminate the spring “cow party,” because it was a beautiful thing to witness and Phyllis would enjoy seeing it.
