AUDREY
(cow)
Eddie flew out of that car like he had grown wings. I watched him tear across the yard in a blur of fur and a shower of yaps until I felt his cold nose next to mine. It was so good to see my friend again, to nuzzle him and lick his ears, to thank him once more for being my friend. Eddie came loaded with regards and assurances that everyone, Madge and Agnes included, was fine.
Then Little Girl Elspeth came over, gave me pats and kisses, and whispered her secrets while she stood on tiptoe. But when Fay’s promise of cookies and juice pulled her away, I was able to show Eddie around and introduce him to my new family, so that he would have stories to bring back to my first family, my beloved family, the family I could never forget.
Saying good-bye to him yet again was difficult, but not nearly as hard as the first time. I could no more return to my life at Bittersweet Farm than I could pretend that I lived on a real farm when I was back in the forest. As much as I would have liked to return to my old life with Eddie, Buster, Roy and the ladies, in my heart of hearts, I knew that was impossible. Bittersweet Farm was a working farm, and every animal had a job. My position, should I have come back, would still include a one-way trip to Abbot’s War. So that couldn’t be my future. And I suppose I won’t be going on my clover-tasting tour of France either, although one still can dream.
I live at Fay’s Sanctuary now. This is where I belong. I’ve made many new friends, good friends, like Marcel and Judy whom I’ve already mentioned, as well as Carmen, a cat that even Eddie would take a shine to. We care for each other here and help each other through our pains and discomforts, which are many, and through the fearful memories that haunt us and the sadness that sometimes crosses over us like a winter shadow. And when we feel joys, we don’t hoard them; we pass them around, giving them a voice in song and poetry and nods of understanding. And when it is time to go, and for each of us there is a time, we all sit by the one who is leaving. We tell stories and share silence, both light and heavy, and we bid them a gentle farewell.
Goodness, the time! I’m afraid you must excuse me. Kind Lady Fay is bringing a new arrival this afternoon, and I’m in charge of the welcoming committee this month. I’d like to thank you again for all your interest in my story. The attention has been very flattering indeed.… Oh, and it’s a llama, by the way. That’s who we are expecting to join us. A llama. I’ve never met a llama before I do hope they like poetry.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Acknowledgment must be given to one Charlene Mooken, otherwise known as Cincinnati Freedom. She was the inspiration for this story. Back in 2002, I read a news item about a thousand-pound Charolais cow that escaped the slaughterhouse near Cincinnati, Ohio, by jumping over a six-foot fence and running into a nearby wooded park. Charlene avoided capture for eleven days. SPCA officers and police set traps and shot tranquilizer darts to no avail. Meanwhile, newspapers, radio stations and television newscasts fed a growing audience of Charlene supporters with daily updates. It was only when three cows were used as decoys that authorities were finally able to apprehend her, but by that time, her popularity had grown to the point that generous offers were made to keep her from having to go back to the slaughterhouse. Charlene was dubbed Cincinnati Freedom, and was even given a key to the city. She spent the rest of her life at Farm Sanctuary’s New York Shelter. And yes, there actually was an Yvonne of Bavaria too.
Special thanks also go to the humans that made it possible for this story to become a book, namely Hilary McMahon, Tara Walker, Debbie Rogosin and, of course and always, Mimi.
Audrey (cow) Page 12