The Happy Farmer (HF), a stout, powerful man with a twinkle in his eye and a regular smile (and an unhealthy obsession with spread sheets, if you ask me), will tell you that his main job on the farm is to manage the bottom line and to balance the books, but I know better. A profitable farm needs happy, well looked after and productive animals, and this you only get through the dedication of many. You could say the farm work for me! And the HF is the coach of the team – making sure everyone is in the right position and playing their part. Storing mountains of maize, enough to keep the dairy cows milking and the other animals on the farm plump through the long, dry winter. The HF and his crew work tirelessly, driving the old tractor back and forth. This is the rhythm of the farm. Summer is the first half of the match – it is a time of plenty, a time for growth and abundance, for storing up against the lean times. Winter is the second half – tougher, a time when you have a dig deep and hunker down, for relying on farm stores, and for dreaming of the spring when the rains would come again, and the farm would burst back to life.
Beef cows, like the Springbok forwards, are built for power. Thick, muscular, and designed for close-quarters combat – or, in their case, grazing. They’re the ones who do the heavy lifting, the scrumming, the mauling… or, you know, the chewing. Dairy cows, like the backs, are all about finesse and agility. They’re leaner, more elegant, and their job requires a different kind of strength – endurance. The milking parlour is the scrum. All the dairy cows gather, twice a day, pushing and shoving, each one vying for position. It’s a test of strength and strategy and the reward is a good long drink – and a chance to contribute to the farm’s milk production.
Like South Africans, cows and incredibly social creatures. They graze together, they huddle together for warmth, and they even have their own cliques and rivalries. I have seen beef cows locking horns over a particularly juicy patch of grass. And I have seen dairy cows, the backs, gossiping in the milking parlour, their tails swishing like excited fans at a rugby match.
Pink Farm Chick 