- Milk through a cows eyes..

Spring had once more descended upon us, and for the 2nd time during my brief existence, I found myself heavy with child.

Birds chorused their spring melodies, and the wind bore with it sweet, clean, fresh smells.. The only evidence remaining of the cold winter passed, were the odd patches of snow framed by silver linings of melting ice at which the sun slowly etched..

We had seen none of it though.. - Winter has been a season we were never given the chance to know.. Imprisoned indoors, confined to small booths.. But with the commencement of spring, we were once more ushered outside to the waiting grass and sun, and above all.. renewed hope..

Within me, I felt my child's restricted movements.. It's ever increasing impatience, gently but forcefully informing me that birth was imminent.. With encouragement, I sent out feelings of love, to wait, to be patient.. Not yet.. The time was not quite right..

My thoughts, without words, but thoughts none-the-less, retreated to the events of the previous year.. Spring had barely begun, and after just a very fleeting moment of contact, my first born had been separated from me.. Who knows what fate awaited her.. I mourned the loss for many weeks, searching for her, calling desperately.. But to no avail.. Never did I see her again..

But they were happenings of the year past, and although I still remembered (indeed, how could I possibly have forgotten?), time had slowly healed over the wounds of this traumatic loss.

Make no doubts, this is a hard and cruel life I have lead.. Only the simple pleasures have kept me sain throughout it all. I did not suffer alone.. My sisters offered warmth and gentleness, though their circumstances were clearly no better than mine. They too have suffered the loss of their children at the merciless hands of humans.. But.. I would not give up hope.. I could not..

During the autumn, before the air turned cold, and we were moved permanently indoors, the new one arrived.. The Gentle-one.. Unlike the Rough-handed-one, his voice did not bellow, showed signs of kindness and contained reassuring words of comfort.. He would visit us daily, offering soft words, and firm neck-strokes.. He attached the plastic tubes to the teats of my udder with more care and consideration.. - Though truthfully the milking was always more of a frustrating cold ordeal than a pleasing experience, and I was always glad when this was over.. Please don't underestimate my intelligence, I know what I have missed, and for who this food was truly intended..

Yes, I had hope that the Gentle-one could help.. I believed he would understand, and as the time drew close, I silently left my sisters, and headed toward the stream where I could see him working in a neighbouring field..

"Mmoo"
"Oh.. It's you Emily.. you gave me a fright.. What are you doing down here.. you know you should be in the other field with the rest of the herd.. Come along now, get back with you.."

Of course, his words meant little to me, but his intention was clear, he wanted me to return. He pushed my head gently backwards, and slapped my side firmly, encouraging me to leave.. However, his voice seemed neither harsh, nor reprimanding, so I stood my ground firmly, aware that the birth was only minutes away..

"Come along now Em.. don't be a silly girl.. I don't have all day.. There's work to be done here, can't you see.. Best you be getting back now.."

More friendly words and gentle attempts at persuasion but he didn't seem to mind my presence too much, so I stood firm and waited..

"Ok.. Stay there if you wish, but don't come too close, or you'll be liable to hurt yourself"..

He turned once more to his work, and whistled contentedly, and, I believed, soon forgot about my presence..

After a while, I felt movement within me. Very quickly and smoothly, my son entered the world.. Bloody and small and helpless. I licked his face clearing passage for air to enter his nostrils and mouth, and cleaned around his eyes and ears.. My son.. no-one could deny the love bond between us.. I smelt him, cleaned him, loved him, and as our bodies moved closer, he found my udder, and took his first taste of it's rich milk.. This is what I had been missing.. this gentle creatures tongue at my udder.. I let out a "Mooo" of ecstasy..

"Yes.. Hallo Emily.. Well.. What have we here? A mighty fine looking young beef calf. Well done, good work Emily.. He'll fetch a good price, I suppose we'd best be getting you both back"..

He moved over to my son, and hoisting him over his shoulders, moved off in the direction of the rest of the herd.. Naturally my son was alarmed, but I mooed reassuring moos, and licked him comfortingly on his neck as I followed closely beside them both.. I felt quite sure that things would be different this time around..

He put my son down, and left us both standing with my sisters..

3 full days my 2nd child and I spent together..

On the 4th day, the 2 men entered the field at dawn and separated us. That afternoon, I found myself once more in a booth in the milking parlour, with tubes attached to my udder..

Severely stressed and frustrated, and although the Gentle-one's voice was just as firm and soft as usual, there was no more reassurance, and waves of confusion swept over me..

I called out, and cried for several days, often long into the night, but my cries were in vain, and eventually I gave up hope of ever seeing him again.. Routine life with my sisters continued, and we were all able to comfort each other to an extent, as we had all suffered the same loss..

Came summer, and once more I found myself fastened to the rape rack.. A bull, of jersey stock, brown, white and oversized, mounted me.. Heavily, clumsily planting his seed within me.. Though I hasten to add, I never felt, or feel, any resentment toward the bull.. How could I? His lot was surely much the same as mine and my sisters.. All I felt was frustrated pity..

The daily milking continued.. and the touch of both humans brought forth feelings of anger and frustrated loss..

Eventually, the seasons changed once more, the winds came, carrying cold air, and someone saw fit to move us indoors again, keeping us locked in our small booths.. Unless you have lived in one yourself for weeks/months on end, you can never understand what an experience this is.. The days blend together, and only the strange lighting, and regular milking hours offer hints of the movement of the sun and sky outside.. Those days indoors were truly the most enduring and perplexing..

For the 3rd time in my short existence, I felt the growth of life slowly taking form within me. This only succeeded in increasing my stress. I had to be outside when it was born, to hide my child somewhere.. Yes, even back then, I had the inklings of a plan forming within my mind.. Naturally there was no desire to have my child stolen from me for a 3rd time..

Spring arrived, and we were lead outside. There was no sign of the winter having visited.. no tell tale patches of snow.. Perhaps the winter had been mild, or perhaps our stay indoors had been longer.. We kicked our legs and breathed the clean air.. So good to be outside once more.. Though, as we were soon to discover, our roaming freedom had once more been restricted. An electric fence had been raised, cutting off the field to the west with the stream..

Several weeks later, and the hour of birth drew nearer. Maybe tomorrow, I thought, as I sat down to sleep in the field. It was good to sleep out, to hear the wind and the insects, and the gentle breathing of my sisters.. Not now little one.. Heavy with anticipation, I sent out feelings of love and encouragement to the child within me..

The following day, feeling the time was close, and seeing a chance, I slipped away from the rest of the herd, heading for the wood. After searching around for a while, I eventually found a suitable spot.. No one had seen me. I gave birth. A boy.. Beautiful and strong, and little and afraid.. I licked his face clean, and offered him my udder, but feared to stay longer lest someone should notice my missing..

I returned to the field.. Later that day, the 2 humans came visiting...

"Looks like Em's dropped her calf, Frank"
"Yep.. sure does, can't see it anywhere around though.. No doubt she's hidden it somewhere.. They do that on occasion. Crafty little buggers.. Keep a close eye on her, no doubt she'll return to it later on."
"Sure will.. Where'd you hide it eh Em? In the woods maybe? Huh?.. I'll go and see to the chickens, then get back to work on the tractor"
"Ok, I'll be loading up the pigs ready for the sales this afternoon.. See you later on.."


I didn't know if they suspected anything or not.. Perhaps they weren't even aware that I had been expecting.. How was I to know how much they knew? I chewed grass with my sisters, and tried to be calm..

Night time and darkness descended upon us, and only then did I dare leave the herd and venture towards my new born son.. I found him where I'd left him, sitting there , calling out to me. I nuzzled my head reassuringly against his neck. He drank thirstily from my udder, no doubt frightened and confused as to where I had been, and why I had abandoned him.. I licked him, and moved my body closer to offer my warmth.. But then.. Something wasn't right.. Movement behind me.. A sister perhaps? I turned around, and by the light of the big round moon, saw 2 figures approaching through the trees..

"Here they are Pete! Knew they'd be here someplace.. Not the first time this has happened.. Little buggers bringing us out in the middle of the night.. You grab the calf, and I'll get Emily back to the field.."
"Mooooo"
"Ok.. Looks like we got ourselves another future few 100 kilos of beef steak.. Will fetch a good price at the market this one.. Come along now little one, we won't hurt you.."
"Mooo"


What was happening? The Gentle-one had lifted my child over his shoulders, and was carrying him away from me.. I tried to follow, but the Rough-handed-one barred my way, and urged me roughly back in the direction of the field. My son cried out for me, and in panic and confusion, I leapt forward and around, away from the rough handed one.. scraping myself clumsily against branches. Eventually I worked myself free of the woods, but by then they were already halfway across the field.. My son.. frightened.. calling out to me.. Run as I might, I was unable to reach them before the gate closed.. Barring my way..

I watched the Gentle-one enter the buildings with my son..

I cried, I mooed, oh believe me, these were traumatic experiences.. Have you ever had your child removed from you and not been able to do a thing about it..?? My experience was none the less painful without the words to describe it..

Weeks passed, and I neither saw nor heard my son again.. What kind of life is this I have lead? Why? What have I done? .. In my own way, I have asked myself these questions, but can find no answers..

4 children I have had in this short lifetime. Each one of them has been stolen from me.. The regular irritation of plastic tubes against my udder has resulted in sickness and infection on many occasions.. My teats are constantly sore.. Inside I have stomach pains. I feel old although I have only experienced 6 summers.. My milk has run dry, and now, after having been driven for several hours in a hot and badly ventilated vehicle, together with many of my sisters, I stand inside a big white building that reeks of fear and death.. One of my sisters fainted during the journey, and I watched with horror as a human beat her to regain consciousness, and force her to stand up and move.. I have also been beaten with a metal rod, and have a damaged hind leg. I am barely able to stand erect.. I am afraid.. I know what is happening here.. My intelligence is enough to realise.. I can see the stains on the floor.. and on the aprons of the humans.. I can hear distant sisters calling out in such frighteningly horrible manners in neighbouring rooms.. I have never heard such intense distressful cries.. Terrible.. I stand terrified and await my fate in dread..

ok then sorry

I told everyone I would still be around buddy, and I havent posted in any new threads. capping off with what 6 posts today? I got on this morning and this evening. unless your out to get saruman for trafiking drugs (um) to us then back off! If you had been around longer you would know a "normal" post count for me is about 30 or so, but in the last couple of months it has dropped lower.

About twelve complete sentences... Freaky.

Wow, S&A. That was really moving ... my sister is vegan, and I'm going to e-mail that to her.

But where did you get it? Who wrote it?

Make me feel really bad eating a steak. Lets All Free The Cows!!!!

http://www.fruitnut.net/index2.htm?PAG=6
this link, I think it was the guy who owns the site. I was touched by it as well, and I do free cows thank you

pity cows can't really talk and write poetry....

neither can disabled people, we dont slaughter them for food.

we don't? oh no j/k

but you have a very good point, and as of right now, i can't think of anything to say in my defence....

Wait... you don't do that? Is that illegal?

... damn, now I'm hungry.

S&A -- thanks for answering and posting the link, but the link doesn't seem to be working for me. Ah, that's all right, I'm going to copy and paste the story to my sister anyway. Thanks again!

--Seahorse