These words are never casually uttered because usually, when “the cows are out,” it doesn’t mean one or two calves are wandering around. That phrase means there is likely a whole pen out (we’re talking 50 to 100 head at least). And when that many cows get out, they move quickly and scatter fast. They’ll meander around different parts of the farm for a little while if you’re lucky, but there are always some that choose to go straight into a cornfield, through pasture fences, toward the manure pit, or, worst of all, onto the road. Those last two cases are the most cause for alarm. The threat of a possible accident on the roadway or a cow fighting to stay afloat in the manure pit are the biggest reasons for urgency.
With my parents living on the main farm where all the milk cows and young calves are housed, my brother a few miles down the road with most of our market steers, and my husband and I another few miles down the road next to our heifer housing, we’re all nearby, but not necessarily right where the action may be taking place at any given time. That means those phone calls happen quickly, and when they do happen, there is a mad dash for the closest vehicle.
Last week we got the dreaded call in the late evening hours. I was at our house getting our infant and toddler ready for bed, my husband was on his way home from a trip to town, my brother happened to be away at the state fair, and my dad was on his way home from the machinery implement after picking up a piece of equipment. Meaning, my mom was the only one home on the main farm, mowing the lawn. She describes the scene as milk cows “pouring out of the freestall barn.”
In this situation, no one was to blame for leaving a gate unchained or the electric fence off. The cows simply bumped the gate just right (or wrong, in my opinion) and popped the swinging gate off its hinges. And when something changes from the norm, cows, especially milk cows, get very frisky and go a bit crazy with no hesitation to take a late-night run.
My mom had her phone out in seconds, telling my dad to get back as quickly as possible and for my husband to turn around. She then drove as fast as her riding lawn mower would take her to shut the gate to prevent more cows from getting loose. Within minutes, my husband came barreling into the yard, parking his truck and trailer at an angle to form a gate while grabbing an ATV to start rounding up cows. My dad arrived moments later, going full speed with our self-propelled windrower. They worked for nearly an hour getting cows back into the shed from all sorts of places around the farm. The cows also blew through the electric fence and merged with the dry cow herd in the process. I didn’t know anything was happening until all the cows were rounded up, and my mom called, saying she’d come watch the kids so I could go over and help sort cows.
This prompted me to throw chore clothes back on, get the kids as situated as possible, and be ready to hop in the car the second she pulled in. Once I arrived at the farm, I saw the chaotic scene — a lawnmower parked in the middle of the driveway, a truck and trailer hanging out butted up against a feed neck rail, and the windrower sitting out in the open. I saw flashlights bobbing around our dry cow barnyard and headed that way. We spent the next hour or two sorting milk cows out of the dry cow pen, then dry cows out of the milk cow pen, and finally rehung the failed gate with extra hinges and another chain for good measure.
The next morning, the cows were relaxed, lounging in their appropriate stalls, and chores went on as usual. Those few hours of chaos and frustration were the most recent reminder that when the phone rings, we need to be ready to spring into action because a few extra minutes can mean the difference between 10 cows out or 100. It can mean the difference between cows venturing around the yard or being scattered around the neighborhood. It could even mean a serious injury to a cow or someone driving by.
The author dairy farms with her parents and brother near Hawkeye, Iowa. The family milks approximately 300 head of grade Holstein cows at Windsor Valley Dairy LLC — split half and half between a double-eight parallel milking parlor and four robotic milking units. In the spring of 2020, Molly decided to take a leap and fully embrace her love for the industry by returning full time to her family’s dairy.