Bessy, our milk cow, rejected her calf, Junior. Every four hours I would give him a huge bottle of milk, and he started thinkin’ I was his mama. He would follow me around the farm like a puppy dog. That cute little calf never got far away from me.
When you own a farm you raise food to eat, that’s the farmin’ way. When Junior got bigger, I had to help lead him to the stock trailer. It was terrible. I couldn’t eat that meat. I’m not a farmer, nor do I raise food. I raise pets and grow food.
Thank you, Sandra Crook, for the photo prompt.
Rochelle Wisoff Fields hosts Friday Fictioneers, a flash fiction challenge. She gives us a photo each week that prompts our stories of 100 words or less. It is fun, addictive, and challenging. If you would like to participate, please click on the link below for more information: