Aldergrove resident Chrissy Chin bought her first cow at 18 while living with her family.
The cow, shipped from a seller on Vancouver Island, was found to be pregnant. However, tragedy struck soon after the birth, when the calf died within a few days.
鈥淚t was our first cow and our first loss,鈥� Chin recalled. 鈥淥ne of the hardest things on the farm is watching a mother lose her young.鈥�
Determined to try again, Chin鈥檚 family bred the cow a second time.
The calf 鈥� later named Ricky 鈥� was born sickly, unable to nurse, and suffering from joint ill, a bacterial infection that damages an animal鈥檚 joints.
The painful loss of the first calf lingered.
Once Chin got Ricky's diagnosis, she called her mom and said, 鈥淚 want to take it to the vet and spend as much money we can to save it.鈥�
Her mom told her, 鈥淕o for it.鈥�
Chin acted quickly.
鈥淚 laid with him in the barn for days. I bottle-fed him. I made sure he was okay,鈥� she said.
Unfortunately, Ricky鈥檚 mother died shortly after, leaving him an orphan.
To keep Ricky company, Chin and her mom began bringing home other orphaned calves, raising four of them together.
鈥淚t turned into an amazing experience of raising these calves on a bottle into big adults,鈥� Chin said.
She said it taught her a lot about compassionate farming and that, 鈥淓ven if a chick comes out missing a leg. Everybody gets a chance to live. Everybody.鈥�
Ricky wasn鈥檛 like the others. He was a steer, raised for beef production.
鈥淚 was just so attached to him that I really struggled at turning him into beef and sending him on his way,鈥� said Chin.
鈥淓very year my mom and stepdad would tell me, 鈥楯ust one more summer.鈥欌��
By his ninth summer, Ricky weighed about 2,500 pounds and was showing signs he might not make it through another winter.
鈥淩icky was so large that my mom said to me, 鈥楢re we going to dig a hole that big?鈥欌��
A vet鈥檚 advice stayed with her: 鈥淵ou will never regret saying goodbye on a good day. But once they pass that line into a bad day, there鈥檚 no coming back.鈥�
Chin decided to give Ricky a few perfect days, including treats, affection, and time together, before sending him to the only processing facility equipped in Agassiz.
Initially, she wanted to keep his skull, but regulations required testing for mad cow disease. A fellow farmer suggested keeping his hide instead.
Preserving Ricky鈥檚 hide cost $2,900, but its value has been immeasurable.
鈥淚 can see the mark on his back where he rubbed up against the hay feeder,鈥� Chin said. 鈥淚 can see the spot where I injected him when he was sick. It feels like he鈥檚 in our house.鈥�
Since sharing her decision online, Chin has faced hateful messages, often being called a 鈥減sychopath.鈥�
鈥淯ntil you鈥檝e actually raised a cow, you don鈥檛 understand that burger you鈥檙e putting in your mouth.鈥�
For Chin, Ricky was more than just livestock.
鈥淲ithout the community support that we have in Aldergrove and the farmers that stick together, I wouldn't be here. Ricky wouldn't have lived all those years.鈥�
