I got shat on today...
thankfully, I was wearing a lovely bonnet to protect my head from the inevitable. The poo comes from being in the Langhill milking parlour.
The parlour is a 28-28 herring bone. Herring bone refers to the cow's positions in the stall at a 45 degree angle. 28-28 means that all 28 cows can be milked at the same time rather than a 28-14 where one cluster is switched between two cows.
Diana and I were hoping to see our cows. Luckily, I remembered my girl's number, 331. Sure enough she was the first cow in!! I was so excited to see her and her freeze-branded arse. The milk maid let me milk her for an example to the others. I didn't fail horribly and it was fun!
So the goal for today's mission was to avoid poo projectiles. Kind of a difficult feat when you're in a limited space with 10 other students but somehow I managed to avoid flying debris and splatter zones...at least from what I could tell. The cows all have a microchip collar that identifies the ID number of the cow, any current udder problems, her expected milk yield, and so on. We learned how to use the machines and checked to see if the cow has a teat that we shouldn't draw out milk due to being under antibiotic treatment for whatever reason. You really don't want to mix milk with antibiotics into the big milk holding tank. It could cause all sorts of health problems for the consumer plus you won't be able to make cheese. So the process of milking is as follows: you clean the teats, snap on the suction cups, and when they automatically come off you spray the teats with iodine to prevent mastitis infection. Sounds easy? Well..yea in a way it is if you know what you're doing. I kind of knew what I was doing but the sheer size of the heifer can be quite daunting when you're at eye level to her rack.
The hardest part of milking was applying the suction cups. Two will go on perfectly. While you're getting the next two situated, the line will kink and the cups will lose suction. Then, you have to start all over!
Because the cows inhale their concentrates, they get antsy. When they get antsy, they start dancing around like a two-year old with a full bladder. Why? Because they do ALL THE TIME! Due to their extreme elimination, it's like a war zone in the pit--shit is literally flying. In times like these, it's helpful (and sanitary) to keep your mouth shut! When I heard the sounds of wet goo plopping on the floor, I performed a maneuver similar to bomb's duck and cover. Unfortunately, I did receive some poo-ey shrapnel. But my fellow students/victims took over my post until I was clean enough to resume action.
If I could get over smelling like poo everyday, I would be an awesome dairy farmer but alas, I prefer to be minty fresh!
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