“Wake up…” my father whispered as he gently tapped me on the shoulder, “It is time.”
I rolled out of bed and rubbed the sleep from my tired eyes. My father had already left the room and I could hear his footsteps going down the stairs. I put on my slippers and hurried to catch up. I followed him out the front door. With a flash light in one hand and a duffle bag in the other, my father walked through the grass towards the barn. I wanted to ask what was going on, but I was too focused on trying to keep up the pace.
When we reached the doors of the barn, I began to hear loud noises coming from inside. My father passed me the flashlight and opened the door. There was our prize winning cow lying on the floor making grunting noises. When I heard the zipper of the duffle bag, I immediately thought the worst.
“No! You can’t kill Bessie!”
“No one is dying today, if I can help it.” my father said pulling out long gloves and some strange looking tools.
I watched as he put on the long gloves that went all the way to his shoulders and crouched down behind Bessie. He lifted her tail and inserted his gloved hand. Before I could ask what he was doing, I saw two small legs being pulled out of Bessie. After several minutes and even the use of a few tools, the newborn calf was lying next to Bessie.
“Isn’t nature such a beautiful thing?” He remarked wiping off the remains of slime that had gotten on him.
All I could think in that moment is that I was never going to have children if that is what will happen to me.
Writing In The Deep 