Yet dismayed that I’m not a vegan. My Birkenstocks and freezer full of hamburger are proof that although I say I love them, I really mustn’t, otherwise I’d do what’s best for them instead of satisfying my carnivorous self. Caring, yet abusing…a strange disassociation, fostered by lifelong habit and lack of discipline. At times I’ve considered giving beef a break, but contemplating is all I’ve done, so is as good as doing nothing.

This pretty girl was standing in the neighbor’s pasture, the neighbor who recently purchased my parents’ property situated right next door. Maybe she smelled Lucy on my clothes because she came straight to me as I passed by. Or maybe she sensed the real me and wondered…why?

See a few other of my bovine pics here and here.