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A Day In the Life of Bessie, the Family Cow
- Trisha Chakrabarti -
(Grade 7)
The buttercups soaking in the morning dew have always been good, but
this particular morning, they were the best. I crunched down on a brittle,
green leaf as I tried to remember when I had felt such serenity and peace.
Ever since the move to the edge of the pasture, I had always felt uncomfortable
in or near the new barn. Whenever I tried to visit Hammy, the rooster,
or Pooch, the old mare, I was shooed off by the cranky, mostly-naked-in-springtime
sheep, with their newborn lambs clinging helplessly to them.
"Bessie!
Come back here! I gotta milk you or Pa'll surely flog me this time! Pleeeaase!"
Matthew screamed as only a five-year-old could, scaring away the sing-song
bluebirds and robins and breaking my long cherished solitude. His older
sister, Marge, had gone away to a boarding school last year, and more than
anything I longed for her soft pat on the back and soothing words as she
milked me. Matt's modus operandi was a little different, to say the least.
He would run into the barn, screaming and shouting, splashing the milk
all over, and frightening the chickens out of their feathers. Every time
Matt left, I would contemplate withholding my precious bounty.
I trudged unwillingly over to the barn, when I spotted a broken fence
post. I knew this was my one and only chance to break free of all the misery
and neglect I had been receiving. Okay, may be I was exaggerating - just
a little. But then I thought of all the hardships my family would go through.
No milk, cream, friendship, someone to talk to. I realized how much I would
miss Hammy, Pooch, and Dwaddle, the goose, and how much they would miss
me.
My head was spinning in circles as I weighed the pros, cons, right,
and wrong. From Matt's point of view, it looked as if I was staring blankly
into the open space, a common human misconception, I might add. I finally
realized that once in the open, I would do nothing but walk slowly back
to the barn and all things familiar.
So I continued on towards the barn, where Matt's gentle pat felt strangely
like Marge's. As I looked onto the pasture, I could've sworn, I saw a buttercup
wink at me.
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