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Memories of Golde Dicks Markham (1996) Golde Markham Dicks 40/125

I don’t know if there is any part of that old trough remaining or if it rotted out—made
more than eighty years ago. Pa put the trough just over the rail fence at the well. He could
draw a bucket of water from the well and pour the water right into the trough. He’d put the

bridles on the mules and lead them across the road to the trough to water them. He took the
bits out of the mules’ mouths for them to drink their water. Later he moved the trough inside
the lot and ran a galvanized pipe under the road to the trough after they drilled a well.

The mules were just like humans; they always picked the weekend to get sick. After Pa
started preaching, he got calls from four churches to preach at each of them one weekend a
month. Services were held on Saturday mornings, Saturday nights, Sunday mornings and

Sunday nights. If the mules got sick on the weekend, Pa wasn’t there to take care of them.
When a mule got sick, he would lie down in the lot and roll and groan. The first time
one got sick when Pa was away, Ma was beside herself,

She said, “I just don’t know what I’m gong to do about that sick mule.”
I proudly stated, “I could drench ihim just like Pa does!”
Ma didn’t think I could do it. But I had watched how Pa had done it. I fixed the

drench in a long neck bottle, pulled the mule’s head up to a log rafter to the wagon shelter,
and put the drench down his throat. Soon the old mule was just fine from his bellyache.
I also learned how to bridle, and, in fact, I knew all about a horse’s harness and could

hitch the mules to the wagon or buggy as quickly as Pa could.
■It’s amazing what a young child can learn by watching parents.

The first time I milked Old Kitty, the Jersey cow, was on a weekend when Pa was out

preaching. He left on Friday afternoons and came back on Monday mornings. This particular
weekend Ma got a humdinger of a migraine headache. Because Ma was so sick, she asked if

I could milk the cow. Old Kitty produced a lot of milk, and her calf wasn’ t old enough to
consume all of it. I said that I’d try. Old Kitty was as gentle as she could be; she was just like
a big pet. I did my best and got as much milk from Old Kitty as Ma would have gotten.

Did I ever regret that day! Milking Old Kitty twice a day became an added chore!

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