Yup. We got milk.

Billy Beef is two weeks old.  We were considering changing his name to Vinnie Veal, but cannot bear the idea of taking him away from Noelle at this point.  Her mothering instincts are intense and beautiful.  I thought I was a rockstar because I managed to push out a few babies, but I had a team of people helping me out:  ob/gyns, midwives, nurses, husband, best friend.  I can't imagine what it would be like to start feeling really crampy one day and all of a sudden see a slimy little creature come out of you.  Then, while experiencing complete exhaustion and bewilderment, you feel compelled to lick the slimy little creature clean and eat its placenta.  Mother Nature is the bomb.

It took some time to get Noelle into the barn to milk her.  She prefers to spend her time out in the pasture with Billy and his de facto godmother, Cody Bear.  Ironically, with his cinnamon coloring and white facial markings, Billy looks more like his godmother than his mother and Cody Bear takes her job very seriously.

I spent a few days trying to entice Noelle to come into the barn by bringing a big scoop of grain out into the pasture and shaking it so she could hear. She looked at me, looked at Billy lying next to her, bowed her head and gave him a low, guttural  moo.  He immediately rose to his feet and trotted up the hill behind her.

Finally by day 4, I came a little closer with my scoop of grain and let a few pieces cascade from my hand so she would know it was the real deal.  Again she looked at me, looked at Billy and gave him a low guttural moo.  He jumped to his feet, but this time trotted behind her down to the barn.  I put two heaping scoops of feed into her pail and locked her into the stanchion.  After a few failed attempts to attach the milking machine/medieval torture device, I decided to forgo the milking and try to get my hands on Billy.

He immediately fled the barn and I followed behind calling to him in the most Mary Poppinsish voice I could conjure.  He stopped a safe distance away and stared at me with a curious head tilt.  I thought my Dr. Doolittle routine was working until Cody Bear ratted me out with a warning call to the entrapped Noelle.  She whinnied and Noelle frantically mooed in response. I decided it was best to go  back to the barn and release her from the stanchion rather than risk her never entering the barn again.

We now have a pretty good milking routine. The husband or I go out in the morning and call to Noelle.  She moos to Billy and he follows her into the barn.  He has his own stall next to her stanchion and he lies down where she can see him while she eats and is milked.  I even got to pet him.

There has been no separation of mother and baby like we thought we would have to do in order to get our share of the milk. He nurses on demand and we still get about 5 gallons of milk a day.  It is a win-win for everyone, except perhaps the poor creature attached to the milking machine. Our little self-sufficient engine is really revving up on the Farmette.