Msscamp...all stems from bad positioning by one of my uncles in the milking barn. I was the junior assistant nipple passer at the time...all of about six or eight years old all dressed in my new bib overalls and engineer's hat. Uncle John had me stand just in the exact spot, or maybe I moved a bit, behind the cow that was being plugged up, and yes, she let go...filled the front of my bibs and sent me out of the barn screaming like the whole world had come down on me all the way up to the house and Aunt Maggie...no sympathy there either...she made me stand under the pump in the barn yard while I got washed. She did read John (her brother) the riot act.
Can't stand butter milk, another story thanks to Uncle Fred...and won't drink skim milk, it looks like the whey that would come back from the dairy and we would feed it to the hogs. Anyway, that's why I don't like Holsteins...could have been any dairy cow but thats what baptized me. Dave Mc
