Monday, February 8, 2016

injaynesworld "Mixed Messages..."

I am awakened by the bellowing of bovines.

They gather at the barbed wire fence to gaze upon me, large eyes dark ponds of innocence, expressing wonder at this white-robed creature who now beckons them with outstretched hands and baby talk.

“Look how sweet you are.  Yes you are little moo-cows.  Come say hello…” 

Each spots an ear tag, some with names:  Meg, Sue, Lily.  These are the lucky ones, small in stature, shades of soft brown fur, destined for breeding; designer cows to be shown in bovine beauty pageants.  The others, sturdy, black Angus, are tagged with only numbers, and destined for T-bones.  I imagine taking a Magic Marker and changing all the numbers to names, as if that would alter their fate. 

The taste of yesterday’s tri-tip still lingers.  I step back from the fence, fearing #302 can sense my duplicity. 

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