This is not the post we wanted to write today. A week ago, we were full of hope, eagerly anticipating the moment we could share with you whether or not MayBelle was pregnant. Instead, today we faced one of our worst fears.
We found MayBelle down in the pasture, unable to get up. After several frantic phone calls and gathering all the help we could, we learned she had something called Right Displacement Abomasum. It quickly became clear that even surgery wouldn’t save her if we couldn’t get her standing again. We fought for her. We did everything we could. But in the end, despite all our efforts, we had to make the heartbreaking decision to let her go to prevent her from suffering.
We are devastated.
Who knew that a cow could become such a huge part of our family in just a few months? But when you spend hours with an animal every day—learning from her, caring for her, laughing at her antics, and appreciating her patience—you can’t help but love her.
MayBelle was our teacher. She stood patiently for hand-milking, probably amused by our early struggles. She tolerated our trial-and-error with the milking machine, standing still even when it took two of us to figure it out. She never kicked, never pushed—just waited, ever patient. She kept us on schedule, loudly reminding us if we were running late for milking. She was a companion, listening as we shared our thoughts during milking and brushing. She was gentle with our children, teaching them to respect and care for her. She was like a wise grandmother, guiding us, rolling her eyes (we’re sure of it) at how little we truly knew, despite all our preparation.
Now, we look out the back door and feel the emptiness where she should be. We miss her bellow when we step outside. We miss the way our little one’s face would light up when MayBelle came to the gate, licking her tiny hands. We miss her.
We are grateful for the time we had with her, but the loss is heavy. Please understand that we need some time. This isn’t just about losing an animal; it’s about losing a friend, a teacher, a member of our farm family. So please, be kind. We’re hurting.
Rest easy, MayBelle. You were loved more than you’ll ever know.