As I took this photo with a Brownie box camera, my mother milked our cow, Lulu, and gave a few squirts of milk to Rattler, the wandering mongrel.
From “Lulu, a milk cow,” the 7th chapter of Growing Up Floridian:
The rude introduction I received from our Jersey milk cow occurred one early December afternoon when I was seven. I had just returned to the ranch at the end of my second week in the first grade at Parrish Elementary School. I heard, before I left to catch the bus with my brother, that our father had found a cow that had recently given birth to her calf. The calf was kept by the local dairy farm in hopes the heifer would grow into a better milk producer than her mother, who only gave a little more than a gallon of milk twice a day. That quantity was more than enough for a family of four, and she delivered enough cream in that milk to allow us to create milk-based staples.