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DeAnn (Wolkow) Kruempel
Cattle and Chickens and Pigs, Oh My!
Looking back, I truly believe growing up on the farm in the fifties and sixties was the best of all worlds. One advantage my siblings and I had was a close connection with animals. Economics required the “not putting all your eggs in one basket” approach; most farms kept a variety of livestock. Exiting our front yard gate, we would run into different animals in three of the four cardinal directions. Daily chores with cattle, chickens, hogs and sheep taught unique lessons to farm youngsters.
We saw babies born and eggs hatch and had a pretty good idea of what caused those
things. We learned that hell hath no fury like a momma cow, sow or hen when we got anywhere near their newborns. 4-H offered opportunities to show or exhibit animals. Judging, grooming and feeding calves, hogs and chickens provided even closer hands-on experiences with the livestock that sometimes became beloved pets. That’s another story!
Though at one time or another I swore that every species was the stupidest in God’s
creation, I also saw how quickly those animals learned the rhythm of the farm. When Mom headed for the chicken house with a bucket of feed in each hand, forty white hens fell in behind her like the Pied Piper.
An approaching storm, or a pasture switch required rounding up our herd of fifty plus
cows and their calves. When they were far out into the west pasture, Dad called them home. He would climb part ways up on the windmill and yell, “C’Boss. C’Boss.” From the top of a fencepost, I watched the amazing scene unfold. The cows stopped grazing and looked up. Soon they turned toward Dad’s voice. Finally, one cow started striding up the path that led home. The others joined in, and within 20 minutes the whole herd waited expectantly in the barnyard. The sheep and hogs also came running when called.
Occasionally one of the animals, especially a first-time mother, had difficulty giving
birth. We witnessed and sometimes helped with the hopefully happy event. Only once do I remember Dad seriously ordering me to go to the house; some things in life children should not see. We learned about life and death.
My siblings and I understood, mostly, the reality of having livestock. Eventually those
animals would be sold. A few would end up in the freezer as food for the family. Tears flowed and hearts hurt when we became too attached.
But along came the miracle piglet, Snooper, who defied all odds, and soon followed me
around the yard like a puppy. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted in pure porcine pleasure when I scratched his back. I loved little Snooper. So, when the time came for him to go out to pasture with his peers, I approached our father. As the youngest, most spoiled in the family, I likely bent the rules more than the rest. “Dad, do you think we can keep Snooper? He can be the Daddy pig.”
Dad sighed and rested his hand on my shoulder. “No, Snooper will have to be sold with
the rest of the feeder pigs.”
For a while the young pig would come to the pasture fence for scratches when I visited.
Eventually, he barely gave me a glance as he romped and rooted with the others. I didn’t even know the day he went to market. But I will never forget my miracle pig.
And I am truly grateful for the lives we shared and the lessons we learned, growing up
together on the farm.
DeAnn Kruempel grew up on a farm near De Smet, SD, the sixth child of Harrison and Mabel Wolkow. She attended school at Erwin and De Smet and later lived in North Dakota and Iowa.
The author worked in school and public libraries for more than 30 years. Her column has run in a growing number of Midwest newspapers for five years. Each year the author publishes the stories. She has also written a historical fiction series, “Promises to Keep.” Her ten books are available on Amazon. Signed copies can be purchased at the Harrison County Welcome Center.
Contact Kruempel at deannkruempelauthor@gmail.com.
