Many of us will not remember 2017 fondly. For Minnesota organic farmer and artist Susan Waughtal, it will stand out as the year she lost LaFonda, her beloved—and inspiring—cow.
When Susan brought LaFonda home to Squash Blossom Farm in 2010, it was a match meant for inspiration. I’ve known Susan since we were 12, and any object that falls under her gaze becomes art. Discarded, weatherbeaten, insignificant, out of style—no matter. Susan sees not what things are, but what they can become. An old scuba tank finds new life as a big bell, painted in her exuberant style. Abandoned sweaters evolve into multi-colored boiled wool mittens and slippers. And when the Hand-Me-Down Fairy is feeling especially generous, Susan deconstructs her haul of knitted and fabric garments and then painstakingly pieces together colors and textures into long, warm gypsy coats.
LaFonda didn’t need to be reconstructed; she was already magnificent, and not just to Susan. Her friend Enid saw right away that the beautiful black-on-white dappled cow was State Fair championship material. Not in the livestock judging, though. Enid’s quilted portrayal of LaFonda won three ribbons, including the sweepstakes award.
Song breaks out when LaFonda’s around. When Susan and daughter Cadence were learning to milk her, they would serenade her with songs from Fiddler on the Roof and their own signature piece, to the tune of Alberta, Let Your Hair Hang Down:
LaFonda, you’re my Dairy Queen
LaFonda, you’re my Dairy Queen
Milk, butter, cheese, ice cream
You’re every milkmaid’s dream
LaFonda, you’re my Dairy Queen
LaFonda was more than just a pretty face, though. A drought in 2011 sent hay prices up to more than $8 per bale, versus their normal $3.50. Could Susan afford to keep all her cows? While she was worrying about hay, a local restaurant invited her to exhibit farm-themed paintings.
“During a snowstorm everything was white except for LaFonda’s spots and pink udder, giving me the idea for this painting,” Susan says. “What do you know, LaFonda in the Snow and another large one sold the first day they were on the walls! I decided the cows were earning their keep by being my muses and models.”
Early last April, LaFonda took ill and lowered herself to the ground in her stall. Despite Susan’s hope and unending TLC, LaFonda’s earthly life was over.
“She’s buried at the crest of the pasture where she liked to lounge and chew her cud and watch the world go buy,” says Susan. “I have a cow sculpture planned for her —next spring’s project.”
A quilt, a song, paintings, a sculpture…. But LaFonda hasn’t found her way into a novel. Yet.