Gradually getting heavier

VIEWPOINT: calf

Cowshed life is, well, as it happens, stable. No surprises in the workalong heigh-ho day. I would just do my thing and eat all the food they gave me, mooch along, and lie down when it looks like rain. It cud not be more udderly tedious, to be a low-life like this – get it, the cattle are lowing?

Week after week passed and I just ate what I was given. I think I’d been putting on weight a bit (or was that just a lot of bull?) when suddenly, Jethro, the man who used to feed me each day, turned up one day at eleven. He usually came to feed me at midday, so what was this all about? Odd, that, I thought. ‘What’s he doing here, now?’

Then I noticed that he was walking and talking with the owner of the farm and his younger son, who’d been away.

Jethro whips a knife out of his pocket and before I could say to the boy ‘Welcome ho…’