Little Zac the Eager Cat in a paroxysm of pleasure launched himself at the wood stove last night - perhaps expecting that if it was so very comfy right next to the fire - sitting atop it would be nirvana. Well the speed at which he approached his destination was nothing to how quickly he left it! Poor little one has burnt pads on his front paws, but the rear ones are fine - must have used the "Cats Only 9 Lives Propulsion Power" for the FTL exit.
Someone who wasn't so lucky was the cow who died in the dam. She's in the cow morgue awaiting identification. CSI preliminary report suggests she went down the steep embankment to brunch on the bull rushes and get a drink, lost her balance, slid in, and due to the steepness and sticky mud, couldn't climb free. Her cries for help unable to attract anyone with opposable thumbs, she drowned. No suspicious circumstances, just a tragedy. (I'm grateful that Dad didn't suffer the same fate trying to get her out. Some things ought not be attempted by a man alone with a tractor).
That she died one day or so before we had three solid days of rain just compounds the pain. Our neighbour has fenced off his dam for this reason, and we're thinking of doing so too now. What a horrible senseless way to die. I've never been able to reconcile myself to this part of farm life.
We have had some rain, and that's the good news. There's a tinge of green back in the landscape, and even the soft sound of it on the roof was a sensual pleasure. No frog calls yet - normally they'd be croaking up a storm, but there's just the rain and the sound of it falling into the tank. Where are you froggies? Please don't all be gone - please don't let that have come to pass.
Hump day. So very humpish today too. There's a chocolate coated cherry (or more if I don't share) waiting for me tonight to balm away the hours until the next attempt at being a citizen. I really am such a worthless bag of meat waddling around. I don't mean this in a bad way - just calling it how I see it. Perhaps the chocolate will help me recalibrate to a shinier, happier state. In the words of the great philosopher John Denver, "some days are diamonds, some days are stones".
2 comments:
Do the meat eaters in your house eat drowned cows? Seems only respectful. If a cow's gotta die, it should feed people...
Yeah,
you'd think so - but no ... they get really sentimental and this one has been given a final resting place on the back hill - looking down into the western valley where the creek ought to run.
I'm not sure why, because the family has many a time butchered and eaten the farm stock. Perhaps an accidental death is a little bit more philosophical and hints at one's own mortality. Somehow there's a difference to farmers between shooting a 2 year old steer (who was never named) for meat and having a faithful old breeder meet a tragic end during a brutal drought.
Seventeen years ago, when I was an evangalistic Vego who *loved* to confront meat eaters with their hypocritical ways, and heartless consumptive habits, this would have been a great opportunity to really grandstand.
As it is, I'm just really sad for her, and for the roo we shot this weekend that got hit by a car at our front gate (ironically by pig hunters) and was flopping around in pain without the use of it's back legs.
Another group of people may have used the carcass for dog's meat. We didn't.
Would I have asked them not to? No, I'm with you. This creature's life has been taken from it, and there are creatures here who mean to live. But for the humans to eat the cow - well no. Especially when you don't know how long she's been dead in that warm water.
Practical to the last.
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