I think it’s safe to say that almost everyone remembers their first calf. Whether you were a 4-year-old watching a cow have a baby or a first-generation farmer having your first cow calve out, we all remember it like it was yesterday. For me, I first had a cow named Ruby that I fell in love with because, at the time, she was the nicest cow on the farm and the only one that would let you pet her. Nowadays, my entire herd is full of 1,700-pound dogs, but not so much back then. Ruby was a great cow and loveable as anything, but my first calf wouldn’t come along until five years later when a knobby kneed little calf entered this world and Granddad told me, “She’s yours.”
Dison, short for Addison, was a stubborn, hardheaded calf that only cared about food and head scratches. I would come home from school every day and immediately run to the barn to see her. I’d sit in her pen for hours petting her, offering her extra grain, and giving her all the attention in the world. The guys would jokingly tell me that I was “banned” from the calf barn since the other calves started to become “pets” because of all the attention I would give Dison and her neighbors.
I wasn’t into showing, so Dison was never halter broke. She would just follow me around like a puppy dog, and we would play constantly in the different pens she had over the years. She grew to be a gentle giant as her feet were as big as Clydesdale hooves Her long, wide head and big boned frame made her a giant among the rest of the cows. In her seven years, she had five heifer calves. Each heifer went on to have Dison’s size and gentle composition. Nowadays, close to a third of my herd originates from her whether as a daughter, granddaughter, great granddaughter, or even great great granddaughter.
When I was a freshman in college, Dison passed away due to a random blood clot. My heart broke that day, but her last daughter was her clone in every way. Her legacy continues, and I think back to the life lessons she taught me and smile. Responsibility, work ethic, and love of an animal are just a few of the important things I learned.
Your first calf will always hold a place in your heart, as it is with most “firsts.” I’m sure we all have an animal we can credit with us becoming the person we are and the lessons we’ve learned. Y’all stay safe out there.
The author is a sixth-generation farmer and fifth-generation dairy producer in southwest Virginia, where she and her family own and operate a 145-head Holstein dairy. Courtney is involved in agriculture organizations throughout her community and is a graduate of Virginia Tech.
