In Our Fall 2018 Issue

Cows are the centerpiece of Craig Blietz's new agriculture-inspired art exhibition.

It was a Dark and Foggy Heifer-Filled Night
 

As is obvious from the cover of this issue of Edible Door, we are celebrating Wisconsin’s most identifiable animal – the cow.

Both the cover art by Craig Blietz and the story inside this issue delves into Craig’s remarkable relationship with these animals, and it got me thinking back to an early chapter in my relationship with Leslie, my wife of 39 years.

We’ve been married a long time and a lot has happened in that time, nearly all of it good. But one unusual memory has stood the test of time and one we can now fortunately look back on somewhat lightheartedly.

While we were still engaged, Leslie commuted to a job at a Hickory Farms store in northern Door County. Each commute required a drive through considerable farmland.

On one particularly foggy night, Leslie made her way slowly home when to her surprise she suddenly was forced to stop. She was stuck in the middle of a herd of Holstein cows that had apparently broken free from its enclosure. Fortunately, there was no other traffic that could have produced a pileup, and the cows did little else but bounce Leslie around a bit in her car. The next day we found ourselves pulling out tuffs of black-and-white fur that had gotten wedged between the chrome and body of her beloved Dodge Dart.

“Milky” has no biological constraints when it comes to producing milk, just as long as you place the “non-toxic” tablet in her udder, push her head into the water trough, and then pump her tail.

Concerned for the cows and for any other traffic, Leslie made her way through the fog to a nearby farmhouse. A lady answered the door, and Leslie asked if they were her cows.

The lady was puzzled and responded as any knowledgeable Wisconsin dairy farmer would. “No,” she said. “We have heifers.”

That may seem a subtle difference to most anyone not in the dairy industry, but farmers know what she meant.

I apparently didn’t, because I probably wouldn’t have given Leslie the gag gift I gave her for Christmas a few months later.

One of the hot toys in the late 1970s was Milky the Marvelous Milking Cow, which was developed primarily for city kids to give them the opportunity to enjoy the sensation of milking a cow.

Leslie took it good-naturedly when she unwrapped the present and came face-to-face with another Holstein. It wasn’t a heifer, because heifers are too young to give milk since they have yet to bear a calf.

“Milky” has no biological constraints when it comes to producing milk, just as long as you place the “non-toxic” tablet in her udder, push her head into the water trough and then pump her tail. After this mild form of plastic animal abuse, “Milky” will pop her head up and “moo” when her udder and all of her lower intestinal area is full and is ready to be milked.

Then as you attempt to milk “Milky,” you realize that the toy is designed for children’s little hands. There’s a little bucket to collect the milk, which is when parental guidance may be needed as little Joey attempts to pour the residual milky white substance on his cereal. Remember, the tablet may be non-toxic, but that doesn’t mean the “milk” is safe to drink.

The toy didn’t enjoy a long shelf life, possibly due to efforts from the poison control center, animal abuse activists, or maybe city kids figured out quickly that caring for animals, even plastic ones, was a lot of work and quickly tired of cranking on “Milky’s” tail.

I know our kids did.

Jon Gast 
Co-Owner/Editor of Edible Door