Mark leaned in close and watched with fascination as I circled my thumb and forefinger around the base of the swollen appendage. “Squeeze firmly.” A bubble of froth appeared at the tip. “Use your other fingers to stroke down. Be firm. Stay in command. Strip it dry.” At my encouragement, a stream of white fluid arrowed out into the bucket beneath. “Release the pressure. Give it a couple of seconds to refill, then repeat. Meanwhile, your other hand is squeezing while this one's resting. An alternating rhythm. See?” Milk streamed in to the bucket from the second teat I was holding then from the first then the second again. The cow munched on a bit of dry hay, happy to have the pressure on her swollen udder relieved. With a look of fierce determination, Mark positioned himself beside a second cow. It took a couple of clumsy attempts to get the feel and rhythm down, but once he had it, his fingers moved with the same strength and confidence he manipulated me with.
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