The last walk
It was October 31, Halloween in 2015. It was 4am and I woke to thunder. It was 6:30am before it quietened down enough for me to go back to sleep. It was 8am and the rain gage showed 19mm. It was 9am and the last calf of the season hit the ground.
Alianovna was the first calf I ever trained. She taught me as much as I taught her, maybe even more, as I attempted to work out her fears and shyness. I taught her to walk on a lead, and she taught me that cows are so much smarter than we think. I taught her that life is not scary, and she taught me that even calves born afraid don't always stay that way. I found her favourite scratching spots, under her jaw and on her chest between her front legs. I loved her, and I believe she loved me. She certainly trusted me.
This morning the boss rang to say he was coming to take all the calves away to his son's farm.
It is April 21, not a special day in 2016. It's 9am and it's raining again as I walk into the paddock with a halter and leadrope in my hand. It's 10am and I'm standing in the yard with Alianovna and her friends, saying goodbye. It's 11am and I'm watching my beautiful calf quietly board the truck and disappear from my life forever.
I will never forget her.
Alianovna was the first. But I don't intend for her to be the last.
Alianovna was the first calf I ever trained. She taught me as much as I taught her, maybe even more, as I attempted to work out her fears and shyness. I taught her to walk on a lead, and she taught me that cows are so much smarter than we think. I taught her that life is not scary, and she taught me that even calves born afraid don't always stay that way. I found her favourite scratching spots, under her jaw and on her chest between her front legs. I loved her, and I believe she loved me. She certainly trusted me.
This morning the boss rang to say he was coming to take all the calves away to his son's farm.
It is April 21, not a special day in 2016. It's 9am and it's raining again as I walk into the paddock with a halter and leadrope in my hand. It's 10am and I'm standing in the yard with Alianovna and her friends, saying goodbye. It's 11am and I'm watching my beautiful calf quietly board the truck and disappear from my life forever.
I will never forget her.
Alianovna was the first. But I don't intend for her to be the last.