No! Really? I’ve seen it done IRL, but I assumed. Partly because the cow seemed to be grinning and arching her back a little.
I stand educated. 
Hmmm, maybe I’m getting confused with insemination.
They also have the arm up the cow’s ass for insemination, in order to feel for the pipette containing the semen straw and guide it to the right place (with the other arm, of course).
I have the feeling many cows don’t like having it done any more than I like having to do it. Hence, I do not work with large animals, but I had to do it for my training.
So I see from Zsofia’s post. I grew up in rural Bakersfield but was never a farmboy. But a lot of my friends were, so most of my experience was up close but not personal. This was before most huge factory farms.
Not at all. Veterinary school is extremely competitive, and They specifically discourage any thought that it’s a “give shots to the nice kitties” sort of job. In fact, they won’t take you without hands-on experience of the dirty, physical bits.
All my equine vets who are under the age of 40 have been women. 75% of entering vet students are women.
http://www.avma.org/careforanimals/animatedjourneys/aboutvets/education.asp
Although its true in the popular opinion, I don’t think its true of people actually entering vet school.
Please don’t think I was dancing around with the roll above my head - it was “I can lift this off the ground and stagger away with it”, not “whoo-hoo! look at me go”. Frankly, I was a little surprised to get tapped for that job - as was the boss’s 14 year old son who wasn’t too happy with the “girl” getting picked over him. But the truth is that he’s a little small for his age and, much as it wounded his pride, I’m twice his weight and still a little stronger than him. (When hauling crap around it helps if you weigh more than the roofing roll). But yeah, I am stronger than most women my size.
Geez, some of the nail guns are HUGE - my boss on the last job had a nailgun I could hardly hold with two hands, much less one, but he was >ppCHOW!<
>ppCHOW!< >ppCHOW!< all day long with it.
In construction there are men of all sizes and strengths. A lot of the smaller, “weaker” guys are in a similar position to me. There are some monster-strong dudes working out there.
On the other hand, little, flexible me often winds up squirming into corners Mr. Incredible Hulk with his bulging muscles can’t get into. Us small weaklings do have a role to play.
That is what I meant. In popular opinion, a veterinarian is someone nice, who works with cute cuddly things. Even equine vets may be seen as “working with ponies” or something cute. That is why I think in part many people see nothing of females pursuing those careers, they don’t know what it really entails. I’ve talked to people in other countries where the stereotype of manly animal vet is still strong, and they DO see it weird that in the US is such a female-oriented career nowadays.
The students entering and going through the program know way better. They know it is a filthy, competitive, hard career they’ve decided to study.
To clarify, I’m a woman and a veterinarian under 40 years old, in order to apply I had to do lots of dirty jobs. I typed up the above and prior post because of personal experience. I DO get tired of people thinking my job is all cute and cuddly, and I suspect that is the reason society, in general, thinks nothing of women pursuing the career.
I like blood and guts. I like soft tissue surgery. I’m training to, in part, chop up open dead animals and give you a diagnosis. And I get hungry doing that.
Our society is rather conservative in its strong gender conformity and disparity at the moment. My cite? Toy stores and clothing, mostly. Remember when t-shirts were unisex? When you could wear your boyfriend’s jeans, and he yours, without it being a political statement? When sneakers came in white and weren’t “mens” or “womens” except by sizing? Toys are not nearly as unisex as they were when I was a kid - with actual labels of “Boy’s Toys” and “Girl’s Toys” in the toystores now. Children’s clothing is nowhere near the rough and tumble unisex Garanimals/Osh Kosh style of the 70’s and 80’s. If I can find a plain basic t-shirt for my daughter, it’s always in “girls colors” (or white), with a little ribbon around the neckline or a bow somewhere, and it tapers in a bit at her “waist” (which she hasn’t got yet, being 3 years old). This holds true even at Wal-Mart and Target, the modern equivalents of Venture, which is where my Feminist mom got all my unisex clothes. Even baby strollers come in Boys Blue and Girls Pink now (although they’re also available in Gender Neutral Green and Brown, I admit.)
I’m not surprised that today’s young women, raised in the Spice Girls Era, don’t seek out more manual labor jobs. They’ve grown up in blue jeans that you can’t bend over in without holding your t-shirt over your asscrack with both hands. How’s that going to work when you’re holding an armful of conduit?
I’m trying to remember (visualize) what I saw. This was when I was around ten years old, 1955 or so, so things are a little vague.
Anyway, it was my buddies dad, a farmer, doing the procedure. He took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeve, took something out of the jacket pocket and (no glove or anything) inserted his arm into an orfice up to his elbow or so. That was it. He patted the cow on her rump and said “There you go, girl”. Something like that. He was between us and the cow, so our view was a little blocked.
Farmers also hired actual bulls back then. That was something to see. Talk about “Wham bam, thank you m’am”. Those bulls were not into foreplay or snuggles afterward. 
The cow was cool with that, though.
As a James Herriott fan I remember him quoting his former boss on the subject:
As I remember, you can feel the state of the corpus luteum or whatever it’s called on the cow’s ovary.
What about parents gluing (I exaggerate) pink bows to their newborn’s bald little head? And those headbands are just plain weird. To me.
I see your point. You’re probably right about that. I still think the fact that it requires higher education factors in though.
The ruptured ovarian follicle becomes the corpus luteum. You can also (with training) feel the ovaries, the about to ovulate follicle, the fetus, the fetal membranes, various uterine parts… you can also destroy/abort a twin (in horses). You can put a transrectal probe and see, not just feel, for all the above.
Me, I can just feel a head/skull forming and say “she be pregnant”.
Oh, but you’re *not *exaggerating! 20 minutes on any parenting board will net you the information that KY Jelly is perfect for gluing bows on baby’s bald noggins if they don’t have enough hair for a clippy bow. I swear, I’m not making this up.
Hijack:
What part did you grow up? I lived mostly south of White Lane and some times by Stockdale HWY and 99 area.
Two groups of people that I do not give a hard time to, roofers and sheet rock people. I could not do their job and most the men and women I have seen make it look like they are just lofing along.
I am sometimes called upon to help Mr. K with the tight-spot-small-hands roles. I can also maneuver under the sink better than him!
I worked for a couple of summers in high school as an electrician’s assistant. We did both new and existing construction. I did most of the untrained parts (which most of the manual labor falls under) and watched the rest, and it really wasn’t all that strength-intensive: I think the heaviest job would probably have been carrying the toolbox.
And it may well be true that women are encouraged to enter the more education-intensive engineering fields instead of trades, but that doesn’t account for the extreme shortage of women in trades, because there’s an extreme shortage of women in engineering and physics, too. It really does seem to be due to a relative lack of interest, and there are a lot of people trying very hard to figure out when, why, and how that disinterest appears.
I worked for a roofer for a few years. They’re a little crazy. Their specialty was re-roofing burned out churches. They’d smoke a phatti and walk around on a 6-inch beam that looked down into 10 stories of burned out nothing. I heard stories of them literally tossing each other off the roof (not the church roofs) during arguments, and I absolutely believe they did.
I work in the trades, I suppose. I run a small water system and do backflow testing on the side. I’ve been in and around the environmental remediation industry for years before that too. But I own the business now, and don’t really see much in the way of unfair treatment. Some customers call on me because I’m female, some surely don’t for the same reason, but I suspect that the most of them call me back because I do a good job.
Besides that I’m not into much in the way of frilly stuff, I wear workboots and a toolbelt for practical reasons. I always keep my hair up out of the way. If I look like a man, it’s because the job requires it. I acknowledge that I’m not as strong as a man, and I run into problems with that sometimes. Sometimes I can tool up and overcome it, sometimes I get one of the guys that works for me or my husband to break a bolt for me. Either way, I’m responsible for getting it done.
There aren’t a whole lot of other women doing what I do though. I personally only know one, and when I go for training, I’m usually in the vast minority. The men don’t seem to treat me any different, except to maybe curtail their language for a while until they get to know me.
I do have to say that I make way more money doing what I do now than I ever did while relying on my degree. I’m happier too; I like being outside working with my hands and I like being the boss.
Broomstick seems to have pretty much nailed it. If I can add anything, it would be a potential drawback for women in trades where physical strength is less of a disadvantage (e.g. plumbing and electrical repair)– working alone and entering strangers’ homes. Certainly she could learn to protect herself and avoid advertising her gender beforehand, and I imagine her gender would be an advantage for certain clients (e.g. women living alone), but still, you’ve got to imagine the creep factor.