Here’s my Beef part 2

This afternoon, Magnum’s barking drew my attention to the window.  Across the road, five neighbours from the farm south/east of ours were herding three runaway cows across the open field toward home.  The field was recently ploughed.  The frozen ruts were encrusted with snow, and freezing wind took it up and whirled it about with every step they took.  I can’t say who looked wearier as they plodded and stumbled by, the humans or the cows, and a good 1800 feet lay between them and the barn yet.  I dare say the poor folks would have picked another day for a stroll through the meadow if asked to choose.

I turned from the chilly window.  I walked to the kitchen and prepared myself a hot, sweet cup of herbal tea.  I stoked the fire with wood and settled into my favourite armchair.  My toes wriggled inside my fuzzy slippers and I contemplated the flickering flames.  Poor, unfortunate neighbours.  But after all, such are the strivings of people who have cows.  Just over a week ago, some silly mortal, somewhere, prattled some nonesense about the joys of leading runaway cows back into pasture.  I shivered at the thought and settled deeper into my warm chair as the wind began to howl in earnest.  Better her than me.  I wouldn’t subject myself to such abuse.  Not for a salary.


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