08/15/2026
Dairy changes you.
I don’t know that I could have ever fully understood the relationship between a dairy farmer and her cows until I lived it.
Because yes, I love my cows.
But it’s more complicated than that.
These cows are woven into our family, our finances, our routines, our hopes, and sometimes our heartbreak.
Their milk helps pay our bills. Their health can determine whether I sleep at night. Their pregnancies are counted down on calendars. Their feed matters. Their feet matter. The weather matters.
And somewhere along the way, you learn them.
Not just their ear tag or how much milk they give.
Them.
You know which one wants her head scratched. Which one is going to test every ounce of your patience. Which one needs a little extra time. Which one trusts you enough to let you help when everything has gone terribly wrong.
Honey reminded me of that recently.
We fought to save her through a difficult calving. There was so much hope wrapped into those hours, and then so much sadness when we couldn’t save her calf.
But Honey survived.
And y’all, I will never forget the trust that momma cow placed in me while we worked on her.
I absolutely adore that cow.
There was joy in saving her and grief in what we lost, all tangled together in the same moment. That’s dairy sometimes. It doesn’t always give you one emotion at a time.
Then there was Lil Swiss.
I raised her from a baby.
Watched her grow. Watched her become a milk cow. Watched her feed countless families through nearly her entire first lactation.
And then we lost her when she needed emergency surgery and we couldn’t get the veterinary help she needed in time.
That one hurt. Bad.
Because when you spend years caring for an animal — feeding her before sunrise, watching her grow, helping her calve, milking her twice a day, worrying when she’s sick and celebrating when she’s well — she becomes part of the story of your life.
And still, there’s another side of it.
These cows are also our livelihood.
There are feed bills and vet bills and equipment repairs. There are families depending on us for milk. There are financial decisions tied to animals we genuinely love.
That relationship between the cow, the finances, and the human caring for her is hard to explain.
Because you can be worried sick about losing her and at the very same time know that losing her affects your family financially too.
That’s just the truth of dairy.
There are days it will absolutely wear you down.
Days you’re tired. Frustrated. Heartbroken. Wondering why in the world you chose something that requires so much of you.
And then you walk into the barn.
A familiar face looks back at you.
You put your hand against the side of a cow you’ve cared for for years, and somehow you remember.
Dairy changes you.
The cows change you.
They teach you responsibility and patience. They humble you. They frustrate you. They provide for you. They trust you.
And sometimes, they break your heart.
I understand now why so many retired dairy farmers say the same thing:
“I miss the cows.”
Because I think you can someday leave dairy…
but I’m not sure the cows ever completely leave you.
If you’ve not heard it today, you are wanted, needed, and loved.
Xo,
Tia
