We shot our sweet milk cow under the old apple tree. Beautiful Daisy, fair and true.
She was feasting on a mountain of alfalfa and apples, sun on her back, her devoted farmers keeping their eyes open, taking on the heartbreaking responsibility of pulling the trigger. Of witnessing. Because that is what is owed. No matter the discomfort.
Our feelings are not guideposts on how to act. They tell us nothing about what is right and wrong. We cannot live ethical, morally driven lives if we live under the dictates of emotions.
I put my head to her heart and wept my gratitude and goodbyes to the winds that pulled her from her broken body.
I felt her leave. As I always do. She heard and understood every word I whispered. As they always do.
We formed a motley procession of heartbroken humans and farm dogs lead by an orange tractor carrying her body.
Deep into the forest we walked.
Her nose leaving a trickle of blood. A map for the wild beasts to follow.
I’m nothing special, just a human with a message that you are welcome to take or leave. I see myself as a simple message carrier, my voice in exchange for the gift of mighty creatures that give us life and ask only for a good life in return. I can show you pictures of golden butter and beautiful meats, the likes of which most of you have never seen, but that’s not mine. I don’t possess that kind of magic. That’s just me working as transcriber, honouring the needs of these beautiful animals that nourish us and the natural world that feeds us all.
She had cancer. So many of them do now. Bovine Leukaemia Virus is everywhere in North America. I’ll talk about that another day. Don’t ask me about it right now.
In less than ten days, this is what was left of Daisy’s body. Bones that tell a story of wisdom and honesty so true that I feel like I’m bursting from the beauty it all.
The bears and fishers, coyotes and foxes, porcupine, and all manner of birds and insects did what they were put here to do. Carried out their roles as they must. Driven by their nature, not the manufactured norms of politically correct conditioning and wayward ideals. Hallelujah.
Nothing wasted. Back to the soil.
We should all be so lucky.