As the temperature rose above 90 degrees in the milking barn at the MSU Dairy Cattle Teaching and Research Center on Aug. 1, the cows were not only grunting irritably, but also taking their frustration out by producing less milk.

Eleanor, for instance, produced 16.2 pounds less milk than the average amount she usually yields.

The decrease in milk was the least of veterinary medicine sophomore Lance Visser's problems. Taking long strides around the slow lumbering animals, Visser yelled, "Go Home!" at the stray cows that refused to fall in line peacefully. About 20 made up the first group to be milked — and 130 more were waiting.

Visser is one of two MSU students who doesn't just work at the farm, but also lives on location this summer in an apartment across from the farm's main building. Visser and his roommate, Matt Jakubik, an agricultural science education senior, work on the farm as round-the-clock help with the six full-time non-students. Their dailyphysically moving the cattle to and from the milking barn, feeding the cows and repairing anything that breaks. In the summer, the downtime often gives them time for larger projects.

"Anything that can happen around here, at some point, I will end up working on it," Jakubik said as he helped assistant farm manager Rob West build a wall to make cow feeding more efficient. "Today we're building a wall. Tomorrow we may be mowing the lawn or washing cows."

Visser has lived on the farm since the summer of 2005, and Jakubik has lived there since December 2003. Visser said they've been friends since they became roommates.

Visser and Jakubik keep their time off of work relatively low-key — going to Lugnuts games, studying or visiting with their girlfriends.

"If you're going to do something, it's planned out in advance," Jakubik said. "We like to have someone here at all times."

Living in an apartment above one of the farm buildings means free rent for Jakubik and Visser along with a decent wage — students start at $8 per hour — but it also means wake-up calls when something goes wrong or filling in for an employee who missed the early shift — 3 a.m. arrival to milk the cows at 4 a.m., a shift reserved for the new student employees.

"We're both sweet guys," Visser joked, explaining why he and Jakubik get along so well. "We're laid back, we communicate, we take turns on who answers the phone in the middle of the night."

West said students who come to work on the farm do so for a range of reasons.

"Some kids just want animal experience. Some want to know how to take care of dogs and cats, but don't have any large animal experience," West said.

Before coming to the farm, Jakubik and Visser were polar opposites as far as experience. Visser is a city boy — a veterinary medicine sophomore from the suburbs of Grand Rapids — who took the job to expand his experience with large animals.

Jakubik, on the other hand, grew up on his family's own dairy farm in Whitmore.

Their differences have made a dynamic work relationship with Jakubik taking more of the maintenance and upkeep tasks and Visser working more closely with the cows, which have to be milked at 4 a.m. and 2 p.m. every day.

"(Visser) is afraid of heights, and I don't have a problem with them," Jakubik said of the different roles they take on the farm. "And I'm small, so I go in small places," he said from a ditch where he was fixing a water hydrant.

West said during the winter, about one MSU class in the School of Agriculture or Veterinary Medicine comes out each week to learn skills, such as how to milk a cow.

In the spring, the farm is popular for elementary school field trips.

As the name implies, the farm is also used for cattle research and aims to answer questions like why a particular feed affects cows a certain way, what feed will make cows grow the fastest and how many hours of daylight is best for the animals.

The students and employees do the grunt work of the research, occasionally recording data but mostly maintaining the cows and facilities.

For the summer, Jakubik and Visser were the only two employees living on the farm, with seven other students commuting to work.

During the fall and spring semesters, the number of student employees grows to about 20, West said.

At lunch, Jakubik and Visser met in the farm's lounge and joked about working with students who come there as their first hands-on work experience in agriculture.

Randy Bontrager, an animal caretaker at the farm for 13 years, remembered telling a new student employee that everyone working at the farm was working off prison time.

"You see that girl over there?" Jakubik recalled joking to the student. "She got caught urinating in public."

Though some students' inexperience makes for funny moments, living on the farm has been just as educational for a guy who grew up on a dairy farm, Jakubik said.

"I took two or three ideas home to my dad on calf maintenance," he said. "It's been just as much a learning experience as in the classroom."

Jakubik plans to teach agriculture at his old high school and take over his family's 70-year-old small dairy farm — even though he has butted heads with his parents, who say it may not be the right life for him.

"My parents and I have had disagreements on whether or not I should come back, and I'm starting to win," he said from the apartment he shares with Visser above the main farm building.

From the inside, the place looks standard for two college guys — except perhaps for the cow calendar in Visser's room. The blue and white kitchen tile clashes with a plaid tablecloth, and cans and bottles line the top of the powder-blue cupboards. There is a television with rabbit ears, helping to average about four channels, give or take a few depending on the day.

In the living room is a poster of Jakubik as the vice president of the Future Farmers of America, a nonprofit leadership program geared toward students in middle school through early college.

It is here that Jakubik discusses his future plans.

The nature of family farms are changing, Jakubik said, and while it's a business that will always have some uncertainty, it's changing rapidly because corporations are buying family farms now.

"It's a family farm, and I want to see it as a family farm. I don't want to see it with someone else," Jakubik said. "It's made me who I am."

Jakubik said he thinks living on a farm builds character that many people are lacking today.

"It gives you a good sense of responsibility," he said. "I feel everyone should have an understanding of where their food comes from and how it's made — that's another reason why I decided to go into teaching."

Visser agreed that agriculture is an important aspect of life that people should know more about.

"Being from the city, I've learned leaps and bounds (on the farm). A lot of people think I'm crazy because I even have a job, let alone work on a farm, but I enjoy it," he said. "I think more people should do it to learn about agriculture — I'm a better person for it."