I've got to admit I prefer store bought milk but most of my family (especially my dad), loved the thicker milk and cream that Bessie provided. Mom would even use milk clothes and hang them on the clothes' line, to make various milk products.
In the summertime. when I milked Bessie, she'd sometimes kick at a horsefly on her haunches, which wasn't too much of a problem unless I had most of a milk pale filled and she kicked it as well so the milk went flying and I lost all my hard work.
I don't know what Bessie felt about the whole process; she received some great oats so she was probably happy, but as for me, the experience was amazing. She helped teach me discipline, hard work, and commitment. My father gave me the chore of milking Bessie, I thought I was doing something for him but now I realize he was doing something for me. I miss hugging Bessie each morning around the neck and more importantly I miss my father who taught me lessons I didn't even know about until I left the family farm.