One of the things I remember about visits to Lawrence and Pearl's house was their supply of fresh milk. I don't mean milk from the grocery store with a 'use by' date well into the future. I mean 'milk from the cow that morning' fresh. A peek into the Dulaney refrigerator would yield a gallon jar of fresh milk, and at meals you could find a glass of that milk sitting at Pearl or Lawrence's plate along with a block of butter churned by Pearl to go with her biscuits or cornbread.
Don Dulaney has fond memories of his grandfather's cow, Dellar: "Papaw milked every day, at daylight and just before dark. He always had two or three cows so if one went dry or had a calf, he had a spare. In the fall, Papaw would turn Dellar out in the field after the corn had been gathered, leaving some of the corn on the ground for her. This was good for Dellar but not so good for Papaw. You see, Dellar was bad to get into the cockaburs, and when milk time came she would slap Papaw with her tail!" Don owns the cow bell that used to hang around Dellar's neck.
Lawrence Dulaney was a "country vet." He was self-taught with no formal training, but folks came from all around for him to tend to their animals. This was the usual practice in most rural areas as there were no veterinarians, and farmers commonly tended to their own animals. However, when their more valuable livestock became ill, they turned to their local "country vet" for assistance. This practice continued until the state veterinary licensing board got involved and actively sought to shut down the "country vets."