Yesterday started out as a perfectly normal, pretty good day. I had slept in after the busy Saturday I’d had, and I had woken up doing everything I normally do to prepare for church on Sunday. Everything was fine, until it wasn’t. Yesterday morning my life came crashing down for the third time this summer. My dad was forced to come home once again with the news that one of my cows had died. I had always thought that when the younger ones died it was worse, but after five years and eight months of seeing my Eclipse every day when I came to the barn, it hurts so much more.
Anyone who hears the fake news about the dairy industry and hears that dairy farmers don’t care about their animals should’ve been there yesterday morning to see my parents and I standing and hugging in the walkway between my room, my sister’s room, the basement, the bathroom and the rest of the house. They should’ve been there to see us all sobbing and to see me barely getting through church yesterday, and having to continually run to the bathroom, crying, and not being able to sing along until the last song. Growing up as a Christian in the church I’ve always been told that everything happens for a reason, and that God always has a plan for us and he never gives us something we can’t handle. All the other times I’ve been able to see that. I’ve seen that when one of my other cows died it always lead to something else. Many things at the barn today wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lost one of my other cows. It’s only been a day and I’m sure eventually I will see that this happened for a reason this time, like maybe since we’re bringing Eclipse’s granddaughter, Hazel, to the fair maybe this will make it more significant or special if she wins something. But for now it just plain hurts.