Sometimes mama cows are not able to feed their babies; this can be for multiple reasons. They can unfortunately die or they can have mastitis and their milk could be bad. When this happens you have to bottle feed the calf until they are old enough to drink out of a bucket. So I’m at my cousin’s in Texas and she had some surgery, so I said I would bottle feed the calf for her since his mama has mastitis. I’ve grown up around large animals my whole life and this was all normal to me and most of the people in my life but then I realized it’s normal to everyone.

My alarm goes off at 7 a.m., and after I hit snooze a couple times while rolling around in bed, I finally peel myself out. I walk to the closet slide my sleep clothes off and throw on a crusty tank top and shorts that I have fed in before. I then brush my teeth and pile my hair on top of my head. Next, I walk to the kitchen grab the milk feed cup and then make my way to the garage where the feed is.

This feed is a powder that sticks to everything and smells almost musty. That’s what goes in the bottle, with some water, to make the milk. After the bottle is ready, I walk out back, put on muck boots (it’s a good look with the shorts) and trudge through the mud out to the pasture, all while trying not to slip and fall, or hit the hot wire when going through the gate. Being shocked by hot wire isn’t exactly how I would want to start my day.

Once I’m through the gate I have to pick the calf up out of the mud, and put him on his feet. Once he’s up, though, it’s game on and he’s ready to eat. After a couple of tries, he finally latches on, or so you think. Once he pulls back, that bottle pops out and that awful milk sprays in my face (this has happened multiple times; I am still shocked by it every time). I am not able to stay shocked for too long because that calf is nipping at my inner thigh getting his foamy milk slobber all over me in an effort to let me know he is still hungry. Once he has had his fill, I make the hike in the mud back to the house and pry my muddy muck boots off with a hay bale that’s by the back door. I rinse the bottle, rinse myself off, change my clothes and go on with my day, until I repeat the process two more times that day.

This is definitely not a glamorous job, and it’s definitely not for everyone. I enjoy it, and so do a lot of other people. The thing is, no matter what you’re doing -- whether it’s folding clothes in a store or feeding a calf in the mud -- enjoy what you’re doing and take pride in it. There may be better things but there is also worse things. Every step is for a reason. If I didn’t bottle feed this calf he wouldn’t be on this Earth too long. That makes me proud that I got to be a part in this calf’s first five days of his life. It doesn’t do anyone any good complaining and being miserable, just remember that. It's way more fun if you enjoy the mud.