My grandma Girty Taylor was a very determined woman.
We had a cow that would only let my dad milk her. It happened that my dad had
to go away on a work assignment which took him from home for an extended time.
First we could not get the cow to go into the stall to milk her. But we had a
little feist dog that was a
great stock dog. We named her curly, she would chew the heels off of a cow if
the cow would not do what she wanted the cow to do. So we sic-ed curly on the
cow and he put her into the stall in short order. After a few times all we had
to do was start calling the dog and the cow would go into the stall. However,
she would kick like a Missouri mule. So my grandma had my brother and me to
help her build a shoot that was too narrow for the cow to turn around in. We
built it so we could insert a wood two-by-four in front of her back legs which
prevented her from kicking my grandmother. The cow won the battle by holding up
her milk until she went dry.
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