Let’s hear it for Bag Balm ~ December 7, 1995

David Heiller

Don’t laugh, but this column is about Bag Balm. Bag Balm is a product that is made to eliminate chapped skin on cow teats and udders. Hence, the name.

Some people think the name Bag Balm is udderly ridiculous. But I kind of like it. Not fancy, not pretty, but it fits.

According to the can, Bag Balm is made “For chapped teats, superficial scratches, windburn, and sunburn.”

The directions on the can say: “Massage thoroughly and allow ointment to remain for full antiseptic and softening effect on the udder.”

At the bottom in bold print, it says VETERINARY USE ONLY. You can ignore that line. It’s just a disclaimer in case some teenager tries to inhale it or something.

Farmers discovered by accident that the act of massaging a few teats made their hands feel better. In other words, what is good for the goose is good for the gander. Hands that were chapped and nicked up, like all farmers hands are softened and healed from the Bag Balm.

In my case, what is good for the teat is good for the feet. That’s where I use Bag Balm. This time of year, wearing Sorel-type boots, my feet get dry and cracked. The heels have big canyons in them; sometimes it even hurts to walk. I know I’m not the only one with this problem.

When it gets real bad, I grab the can of Bag Balm from my dresser and scoop a big glob of it in my hands and rub it into and onto both feet. It feels very soothing to both my feet and my hands. It smells good too, which I think is from the lanolin base.

It doesn’t soak into the skin like some of those limp-wristed hand creams. It’s more like axel grease, something the pioneers rubbed on the hubs of wagon wheels on the Oregon Trail. The can calls it a “stiff ointment.” That’s as good a term as any.

Then I put on a couple a pair of old socks and sleep with them on. In the morning, the skin on my feet actually feels like skin again, and not like Steger mukluks. The calluses’ are almost soft to the touch.

My wife doesn’t like Bag Balm. She uses products with names like “Avon Moisture Therapy, Moisturizing Lipid Complex.” (I personally could never use anything with a lipid complex.)

The main reason Cindy doesn’t like Bag Balm is that it stains the sheets if it works through the socks, which it does if you put on a half-inch-thick layer (like me), or if you always use a special pair of Bag Balm socks (like me). Cindy doesn’t like that, although stained sheets never bothered me much.

You can buy Bag Balm at most farm-related businesses, like the Willow River Mercantile or Askov Co-op Feed. A 10-ounce can costs about $4.50.

You can also buy it direct from its manufαcturer, Dairy Association Company, Inc, Lyndonville, Vermont, 05851; telephone (802) 626-3610. It comes in three sizes: one-ounce, 10 ounce, or 4-1/2-pound can for. $34.50. That’s a lot of teats.

The cans are green with red lettering. They look old fashioned and make a perfect stocking staffer for that favorite guy of yours, or an enlightened wife.

I’m not getting a kick-back from this column, no free can of Bag Balm. I just felt like singing the praises of something that actually works.