A few years ago a friend brought her children here for a farm tour. They had so many questions which inspired me to write them a story. I found it today on my external hard drive and decided to share it with you.
Schooner Farm
“Mommy, how many days till
Saturday?”
“Tinley, you just asked me that
yesterday. Here, look at the calendar.”
Saturday was highlighted in bright
pink, my favorite color. Grandma T., who
I was named after, (the T. stands for Tinley), gave me these highlighters for
my birthday. I use them for marking
special days on the calendar or coloring or marking stuff I like in books, not
the ones I get from the library, of course.
Once I colored Stella’s nose pink but Mommy told me the markers were for
paper not cats’ noses. Written on the
calendar was Schooner Farm. One
more day.
Schooner Farm is so far away. Daddy says it will take us 30 minutes to get
there. I’m taking some books on farm animals
with me in the car so the ride will go faster.
Daddy went to school with Mr. Schooner and he’s been promising to take
me to their farm to see their animals for a long time. We’re not allowed to have farm animals where
we live because we live in a circle of houses Mommy calls a colt of sack. I don’t know why you can’t have chickens or
cows when you live in a colt of sack but Mommy says we have to follow the
rules. When I grow up I’m going to live
on a farm where there are no rules and I can have any animal I want.
“Here we are,” Daddy announced as
we crossed a bumpy bridge Daddy said was a cattle guard used to keep the cows
from running away from home. I liked the
way it felt when we went over it and asked if we could do it again. Daddy said, “on the way out.”
It smelled funny at the farm,
nothing like where we live. “Buck, I’d
like you to meet my daughter Tinley”.
Mr. Schooner shook my hand and it
felt like my hand got swallowed up by a gigantic, and I mean gigantic, cat’s
tongue. His hand was warm but very
scratchy. I sniffed my hand afterward
and Daddy looked at me, frowned and shook his head. Mr. Schooner was almost twice as big as Daddy
and smiled a lot. I could tell he and
Daddy were happy to see each other. There
was a boy standing on the porch staring at us.
I wondered if something was wrong with him because he just stood there
not doing anything but staring. He was
really tall like Mr. Schooner.
“Jackson, come here and meet my old
friend, Mr. Carson, and his daughter, Tinley.” Jackson walked toward us but
stopped 10 feet away and didn’t look at us.
He mumbled something that sounded like hello. “Tinley, you and Jackson are almost the same
age. Your moms were in the hospital at
the same time having babies. Speaking of
babies, I’m glad you came today, Tinley, because one of our does had babies
this morning.”
“You have deer?”
“No, goats. Female goats are called does just like female
deer.” I think I saw Jackson smile at
this. “Would you like to see them?”
I nodded. “I saw baby goats at the zoo once. They chewed on my shorts.”
As we got closer to the goat barn I
smelled something very bad. I held my
nose. “What stinks?”
Jackson giggled. His dad said, “Oh, that’s our buck.”
“You named him after yourself?”
“No, that’s what a male goat is
called, a buck. We keep a buck here at
the farm so we can have babies. They
give off a smell that some people think is unpleasant. After awhile you get used to it. If you think he smells bad now you should
smell him during breeding season.”
I had no idea what he was talking
about but I was sure I didn’t want to be here during breeding season if the
buck smelled worse than this. I forgot
all about the smell after Mr. Schooner opened the big sliding door to the barn. One of the goats greeted me by rubbing her
head up and down on my leg. “That’s
Luti, our herd queen. She wants to be
sure she gets attention before any of the others. She’s going to have babies this week too.”
“I think she likes me.” Almost all the goats came running into the
barn when they saw us in there. One of
them stuck its nose in my pocket. It
tickled.
“She’s looking for treats.” Mr. Schooner said. “Over here is Poppy and her triplets.”
“Whoa, triplets?” Daddy asked.
“Yes, many goats have twins and
triplets. Some breeds even have 4 and 5
babies.”
“Wow. What are they doing? It looks like she’s squishing one of them.”
“He’s ok. They’re nursing. She’s a good mother and will be sure not to
squish them. Even new mothers seem to
have the instincts to take care of their babies and the babies know just what
to do too. There’s plenty of room for
them to get away if they need to. They
really need very little help from us.”
“What happened to their ears?”
“They’re LaManchas. That’s the way they’re supposed to look. They have very tiny elf ears. See how one of them looks like it has no ears
at all? Those are called gopher ears.”
“I think those are really cute,”
Jackson said. I was surprised by the
sound of his voice. I think we all
were. He hadn’t said anything up to this
point.
“These goats are Jackson’s
responsibility. He feeds and milks them
and cleans up after them. He even
decides who we should keep and who we should sell.”
“You sell them?”
“Well, we can’t keep all of them.”
“I wish I could buy one.”
“Even if you were allowed to have
goats where you live I wouldn’t sell you just one. Goats are very social animals and need a
companion. A single goat would be a very
unhappy goat. You’d have to take 2 home
with you.”
“Oh Daddy, couldn’t we get 2
goats?”
“Honey, you know we can’t have them
where we live.”
“We should move then.”
Daddy smiled. He asked Jackson,
“How much milk do you get in a day?”
“From 6 does I’ll get about 4
gallons of milk at peak but I’ll get more next year because some of these
mothers are first time fresheners and won’t give as much because it’s their
first time kidding.”
HUH?! Was this the same boy we met earlier? And what in the world did he just say? I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to sound
stupid.
“What do you do with all that
milk?” Daddy asked.
“Jackson and his mom make lots of
wonderful cheese, yogurt and soap and if we can’t use it all we feed it to the
pigs.”
I love cheese, yogurt and
soap. I’m definitely going to be a
farmer when I grow up. “In my book I was
reading on the way here, the goats had horns.”
“These goats would have horns, too,
if we didn’t disbud them. Jackson, do
you want to tell them what that is?”
“They aren’t born with horns but
when they’re a few days old they start getting bumps on their heads. My dad and I use an iron to burn the bumps so
they won’t grow into horns. It really
stinks and it makes me feel bad when they scream and cry.”
“It’s hard to do but we know it’s
for the best for our goats because they won’t get their heads stuck in fences
or buckets or hurt each other or us with them.
The burning only hurts them for a little bit and then they’re back to
bouncing happy babies again.” Mr.
Schooner added.
“I’d like to taste their milk,” Daddy
said.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you won’t be
able to escape without Jennifer offering you some of our milk before you go.”
“What does it taste like?” I asked.
Jackson answered, “Milk, what else
would it taste like?”
I shrugged.
“More people in the world drink
goat’s milk than cow’s milk,” Mr. Schooner said. “The US is one of the few countries that
drinks cow’s milk almost exclusively.
Most Americans don’t know what they’re missing.”
“Do you have cows?” I asked.
“We do,” answered Mr.
Schooner. “But ours aren’t milk cows. We raise cattle. A cow is a female and the males are called
steers or bulls. They’re raised for
meat.”
“You mean you kill them?”
“We don’t kill them. We sell them to other people and they usually
have them butchered so they’ll have beef in their freezer for the year.”
“You know how much you like hamburgers,
right, Tinley?” Daddy asked. “That’s how you get your hamburgers only we
buy it at the store. I’m beginning to
think we should buy it from the Schooners though.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about
this. “I’d like to see the cows.”
“Of course. We have about 20 head of cattle but a large
number of them will be gone this summer.”
We walked over a hill and I
couldn’t believe how beautiful everything was.
It was all so green and the cows had their heads bowed and looked very
calm. A few were lying down and I wanted
to lie down with them. We walked closer,
close enough to see the wet, shiny noses on a few. I think they had the prettiest eyes I’d ever
seen. How could anyone kill an animal
this beautiful?
I must have said that out loud
because Jackson answered.
“That’s what farmers do. They raise animals so people like you and me
can have meat.”
Mr. Schooner added, “We like to
think our animals live a good life until the very end. We treat them with respect and give them all
an animal could need in the way of comfort and food. We feel we’re raising them in the most
healthy environment we can and in return we get good healthy beef.” We stood there and watched them for a long
time. Mr. Schooner broke the
silence. “It’s about time for lunch. Anyone hungry?”
Jackson and I both said at the same
time, “I am.”
Mrs. Schooner, who was really
short, like not much taller than me, had lunch all ready and the table was set
like she knew we’d be there at that very moment. She had a really round face and freckles. I’ve never seen an adult with so many
freckles. She reminded me of Mandy, my
doll I played with when I was just a little kid. Daddy hugged her and even Daddy looked tall
next to her. “Jennifer, this is my
daughter, Tinley.”
“She looks just like you, Ted. Tinley, I’m so glad to finally meet you. I don’t know why we’ve waited so long to have
you out here. She hugged me too even
though she didn’t know me. I felt like I knew her though. It was nice.
“Would you like milk with your lunch?”
“You bet.” Daddy said.
Mrs. Schooner poured us big glasses
full.
“Wow, it DOES taste like milk, only
sweeter than the kind we get.” I
said.
“This is delicious, don’t you
think, Tinley? Daddy asked. I nodded.
“It’s a little richer than what we drink at home because we buy
skim. I forgot how good whole milk is.”
The adults did most of the talking
during lunch. I couldn’t have talked
much anyway because my mouth was always full.
This was the best lunch I’d ever had.
“May I have some more bread, please?”
I asked. “I’d like some more milk
too if there’s more.”
“There’s plenty more where that
came from.” Mrs. Schooner said.
“Did you make this bread from your
own wheat?” Daddy asked.
“She did. She also made the blackberry jam.” Mr. Schooner boasted because he knew
Mrs. Schooner wouldn’t. She smiled at me and told me she’d send some
bread and jam home with me to share with Mommy.
I don’t know how Jackson could be so skinny when his mom was such a good
cook.
“Mrs. Schooner, are you going to go
with us to see the rest of the farm?”
“Tinley, I would love to join you
for a little while but then I need to take care of some chickens for a dinner
being catered for a local business in Lancey tonight.”
“Can I help you take care of them?”
“Honey, I don’t know if your dad
would want you to see that.”
“Daddy, can I help her take care of
the chickens?”
Daddy looked at Mrs. Schooner and
raised his eyebrows. Mrs. Schooner
tilted her head to the side, looked at me and then back at Daddy. I didn’t know why this was such a big
deal. How hard can it be to take care of
chickens?
Daddy kneeled down and said,
“Tinley, Mrs. Schooner has to process some chickens. Do you know what that means?” I shook my head. “It means she has to kill them and prepare
them for someone’s meal.” That was not
what I was expecting at all. We stood
there in silence. Mrs. Schooner didn’t
look like that same bubbly woman I met an hour ago.
Mrs. Schooner finally jumped in and
said, “I’d like to show you one of my favorite animals here on the farm.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“What’s that?”
“Sheep. We raise sheep for their wool.”
“Their wool?”
“Yes, we shear them in the spring,
clean the fleece and make it into yarn so we can make clothing out of it. Most of them have been sheared already.”
“Wow, I’d like to learn to do
that. Do you make clothes for Jackson?”
“Sometimes. I’ve knit him hats, gloves and sometimes
sweaters. Maybe someday you and I could
spend time together and I could teach you to knit your own mittens.”
“When?”
Mrs. Schooner and Daddy
laughed. “Well, we’ll have to talk to
your mom about that and pick a day. How
‘bout I walk with you to see them. Maybe
you saw them when you visited the goats.
They’re in the pasture just beyond.”
There were brown and white
sheep. The ones that were sheared looked
kind of like goats but when I went in their fence they wouldn’t let me pet them
like the goats did. I got real close to
one but when I reached out to pet it, it darted away. Finally one of the young ones let me touch
it. It had been sheared and was very
soft. I would like a pair of mittens
knitted out of fleece from this sheep.
Mrs. Schooner told me it was still a lamb. “They’re called lambs until they’re a year
old. Her name is Nightingale.”
“Do sheep make milk too?”
“All female mammals make milk when
they have babies but these sheep don’t make enough for us to milk them and make
cheese like our dairy goats. They just
make enough for their babies. Many of
them are getting ready to have babies soon.
I wish you could see their new lambs.
They’re very cute and it’s fun to watch them play.”
Very quietly I asked, “Do you eat
these too?”
“No, not very often. Mostly we raise them for their fleece but
occasionally when we have too many boys we’ll raise one or two for meat.”
“Why the boys?”
Mrs. Schooner paused and looked
hard at me.
“Never mind,” I said.
“What kind of dog is that in there
with them?”
“That’s our Great Pyrenees,
Simon. He’s our livestock guardian
dog. He keeps coyotes and other
predators away from our animals. I don’t
know what we’d do without him. Last
summer we had 22 lambs born here. We couldn’t
lock them up at night because there wasn’t enough space and the sheep like to
sleep outdoors anyway when it’s clear and warm.
We went to bed early but were awakened around 2:00 to barking like we’d
never heard before. We knew something
was wrong so Mr. Schooner rushed out to see what all the commotion was about. When he arrived at the pasture he saw a bear
standing on its hind legs with Simon standing on his also. The bear was twice his size but Simon would
not back down. The more Simon pushed the
more the bear backed up. This continued
until the bear was cornered and had to turn around and leap back over the
fence, which was a great accomplishment for a bear his size. Simon didn’t care how big that bear was. He was going to protect his charges no matter
what. He had no fear for himself. Now we sleep easy knowing Simon has his
eye on the flock.”
“Did Simon hurt the bear?”
“No, he never touched him that we
know of. He just intimidated the bear so
much that the bear had to leave.”
“Wow. Simon is so brave.”
“Yes, I think so too. Tinley, I need to get those chickens ready
for the dinner tonight. How ‘bout I take
you to find your dad and Jackson?”
“Mrs. Schooner?”
“Yes sweetie?”
“May I watch you kill a
chicken? I promise I won’t cry.”
“Tinley, it’s ok to cry over
animals dying. I cry lots of times when
I butcher animals.”
“You do?”
“Oh yeah. I grow very attached to some of the chickens
and turkeys. Sometimes I cry even when
I’m not very fond of an animal. I can’t
explain it. There’s something about
taking the life of another creature that makes your heart ache and you can do
nothing but cry and give thanks for all that they’ve given you. We once had a turkey named Rocky.”
“I go to school with a boy named
Rocky. Actually his name is Randolph but
everyone calls him Rocky. He’s the
strongest boy in my class. He can do 15
pull-ups and no one else can even do 10.
He’s very smart too.”
“That’s funny because Rocky the
turkey was also very strong and smart.
One morning I went out to feed the animals and the whole turkey yard was
flooded. There was water
everywhere. I blamed Jackson for leaving
the water on when he was filling buckets the day before. He said he didn’t do it but I didn’t believe
him. Two days later it happened again. This time I was pretty sure it couldn’t have
been Jackson. When I turned it off Rocky
walked right past me, grabbed the handle with his beak, flapped his wings and
lifted himself off the ground, pulling the hydrant handle up and turning it on
full blast. All the other turkeys came
running over and drank and danced in it like children playing under a sprinkler. If they could giggle I think they would
have. We ended up having to put a lock
on the hydrant so he couldn’t do it anymore.
Oh he was a real nuisance sometimes but I cried like a baby when he
died. We never got to butcher him though
because something else got to him first.”
“How come Simon didn’t protect
him?”
“We didn’t have Simon then and I’m
not sure he could have protected him anyway.
Rocky refused to sleep in the turkey house at night with the rest of the
birds. He insisted on roosting up in
trees. We gave up trying to catch him to
lock him up each evening and then something else killed poor Rocky. Come on, let’s go find your dad.”
Mrs. Schooner took my hand and we
walked, skipped and talked until we found Daddy, Mr. Schooner and Jackson
feeding slop to the pigs.
“Yuck, they like that stuff?”
“Believe it or not they do. I don’t know how many other animals would eat
egg shells, moldy cheese, spoiled milk, apple peels and a chicken carcass,” Mr.
Schooner said.
“They sure grunt a lot. What are their names?”
“Guess,” said Jackson.
“Umm, I don’t know – are they girls
or boys?”
“Girls.”
“Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup?”
“Nope, that one’s Oscar, that one’s
Meyer, and guess what that one’s name is.”
“Wiener?”
“Nope, Frank.” Jackson laughed so hard he snorted.
“Those aren’t girls’ names.”
“They are now,” he said, still
laughing at himself.
“That’s stupid,” I said, but I
couldn’t help laughing myself. The more
Jackson laughed, the harder I laughed.
Daddy and Mr. and Mrs. Schooner started laughing, too, even though I
don’t think they knew why we were laughing.
“Oscar, Meyer and Frank are pretty
happy pigs,” I said. “Look at their
tails wagging while they eat. I think
they’re cute. Did you get them when they
were babies?”
“Yeah, we got them when they were 8
weeks old,” Jackson answered. “They were
even cuter then.” Jackson seemed like a
different boy than the boy standing on the porch when we got here.
The pigs finished eating and
started running in circles all over their yard.
I couldn’t believe how fast they could run for such big animals. “Their noses look like the end of an
elephant’s trunk, don’t they?”
“Those snouts are very tough. See how all that ground is dug up?” Mr. Schooner asked. “Three pigs did all that with their
noses. That’s a lot of ground to till.”
“Tinley, we’re going to a farm just
down the road to get a part for Mr. Schooner’s tractor. Would you like to go with us?” Daddy asked.
I looked at Mrs. Schooner. “I thought I was going to watch you butcher
the chickens?”
“I think maybe I should do that
myself but if you get back and I’m still processing then you can watch if your
dad says it’s ok.”
“We should probably get going
then,” Mr. Schooner said.
“Can we ride in the back of the
truck?” Jackson asked.
“I suppose that’s ok since it’s
only a mile away, if that’s ok with you, Ted.”
“That’s fine with me.” Daddy said.
It seemed like we just got in the
truck and we arrived at the farm. A lady
in overalls met us in the driveway.
“Hey, Buck. Who’d ya bring with
ya?”
“These are my friends, Ted and
Tinley. Ted and Tinley, this is my good
friend and neighbor, Lorrie.”
“Nice to meet ya. Welcome to Hog Heaven Farm.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you too,
Lorrie.” Daddy said. “It’s a beautiful place you have here.”
“Thanks. It ain’t as pretty as Buck’s place but we
like it pretty good.”
“Miss Lorrie, Jackson says you have
a bunch of pigs and turkeys. Will we get
to see them?”
“I’d be glad to show ‘em to
ya. Let me take care of that part Buck
needs first and then I’ll walk ya out to the barns. Glad to see ya wore your boots. It can be pretty messy in the barns.”
“Mommy told me not to wear flip
flops to a farm.”
“Your mommy’s a smart lady.”
We walked into a huge garage filled
with lots of tractors and other farm equipment.
“Buck, I think this is what ya
need. I took it out of my Dad’s ol’
Allis Chalmers. It should do the job for
ya.”
“Thanks Lorrie. You’re the expert.”
Daddy looked at me and winked. I think he thought Miss Lorrie was funny.
“Ok kids, let’s go check on the
porky pigs.”
Daddy held my hand. He could see the smell was getting to me the
closer we got to the barn. We entered a
very long building and I wasn’t prepared for what I saw and smelled. There was an aisle down the center and on
each side were pens of hundreds of pigs.
The moms were lying on their sides with babies nursing and climbing all
over each other to get their share. The
mom looked like she had no room to get up.
I looked at Daddy and his mouth was open. “Daddy?”
“It’s alright, honey.” I could tell he didn’t think it was alright.
“Miss Lorrie, why don’t they have
tails?”
“We cut their tails off so they
don’t chew each others’ off and make a bloody mess.”
Jackson yelled, “Miss Lorrie, there
are some dead babies in the aisle.”
“Every now and then a sow squishes
her kid and kills it so we have to take them out.”
“Oh,” whispered Jackson. I could tell Jackson hadn’t seen this before
and felt just as bad as we did. I wanted
to ask when they got to go outside but I think I already knew the answer to
that. This was a very different sight
than watching Oscar, Meyer and Frank racing around wagging their curly tails.
“Can we go see the turkeys now,
please?” I asked Miss Lorrie.
“Of course. I’ll meet ya outside in a minute. I need to take care of a few things in here before
I go. Buck, why don’t ya take ‘em to the
turkey barn and I’ll meet ya there.”
We walked out and I gasped for some
fresh air. Daddy was squeezing my hand a
little too tight and I had to pull it away.
“You ok, Daddy?” Daddy was
looking off to the side of the barn where we saw Miss Lorrie throwing the dead
piglets into a pile outside.
“I’m fine, honey.”
Mr. Schooner walked us quickly
toward the turkey barn. He turned to us
and said, “I’m sorry you had to see that.
I should have warned you. I’m
afraid the turkey barn isn’t going to be a whole lot better. At least they’re still young and it won’t
feel so crowded. In another few months
they’ll be very large and packed tight in the barn so they can hardly
move. Some will be so fat their legs
won’t hold them up anymore.” Miss Lorrie
walked up and Mr. Schooner stopped talking.
“This is just one of our turkey
barns,” Miss Lorrie said. “We have
another one next door where we have some that are older.”
Mr. Schooner said, “I think the
kids would rather see the young chicks.”
It was very warm inside. “What are those lights for?” I asked.
“Those are heat lamps to keep the
chicks warm until they get enough feathers to keep themselves warm.” The chicks were pale yellow and very cute and
fluffy but it smelled pretty bad in this barn too. Miss Lorrie let me and Jackson hold one. It peeped and then cuddled under my
chin. “We have over 500 chicks in
here. These are fast growers, the kind
you buy in the grocery store at Thanksgiving.”
“Mrs. Schooner told me a story
about her turkey named Rocky who knew how to turn a faucet on and slept in a
tree at night.”
“We don’t name our turkeys and
these birds will never see a tree, let alone sleep in one.”
We watched them pecking at their
food for awhile till Mr. Schooner said it was time to get back to his farm to
feed his turkeys.
“Thanks for showing us around,”
Daddy said.
“Sure, come back anytime,” Miss
Lorrie replied.
I didn’t think I really wanted to
but I didn’t say that because Mommy says if you can’t say anything nice, don’t
say anything at all.
Back at Schooner’s farm, Jackson
took me to see their turkeys. He said, “We
don’t have very many turkeys but ours get to live outside and eat bugs and
grass. See that big pretty one? That’s a Tom.”
I knew that was a boy because we
learned that at school. “The other 3 big
ones are our hens. That one there
hatched out these 3 poults. I don’t know
if they’re boys are girls yet. They’re
too young to tell.”
“Do you name your turkeys?”
“Of course. Guess what they are.”
“I’m not even going to try.” Jackson and I both laughed.
I heard Daddy call my name. “Time to go, Tinley.”
“Jackson.”
“Hmm?”
“I like your farm. Would it be ok if I came back to watch you
milk the goats sometime? You can come to
my house sometime too but we don’t have as much to do there.”
“I could teach you to milk. It’s not hard.”
“Tinley.” Daddy called again.
“I better go.”
We raced back to our car. Mrs. Schooner handed me a bag with some of
her bread, blackberry jam, some goat’s milk and goat’s milk soap. “This is for you to share with your mom. Tell her to come with you next time you
visit. I hope it will be soon.” She hugged me so tight I almost dropped the
bag.
“I hope it will be too.” I said.
“Jackson said he’d teach me to milk a goat. I want to learn to knit mittens too.”
“Well, Jackson’s just the person to
teach you to milk and I’m sure we can find some time to knit too, Tinley.”
Daddy and I hopped in the car and
drove down the driveway. I waved until I
couldn’t see them anymore.
“Go slow over the cattle guard,
Daddy. I want to feel every bump.”
When we got home Mommy greeted us
at the door. I gave her the bag from
Mrs. Schooner and told her we were invited back soon and she had to go with us.
“What’d you think of the farm,
Tinley?” Mommy asked.
“I still want to be a farmer when I
grow up and I want my animals to be able to run in the field and eat grass and
play like at the Schooner farm. It made
me sad to see Miss Lorrie’s pigs in that big, stinky barn where they had no
room to walk. She said her turkeys and
pigs are the kind that we buy at the grocery store.”
Daddy said, “Tinley and I had a
real eye opening experience today. I
think we should consider getting our meat from the Schooners or the farmer’s
market where we can ask where the meat comes from and how the animals are
raised.”
While Mommy fixed us dinner I got
my markers and sketch book and drew all the animals I was going to have on my
farm. I used lots of green to color
grass for my animals to eat. When I was
done coloring I showed it to Daddy.
“I like the way you drew smiles on
all the animal’s faces.” He said and
smiled.
I smiled too.
