Prelude
Have you ever looked into The eye of a cow?
No, I mean really looked.
Have you ever been close enough to a dairy cow
to see her soul shining?
Close enough to smell her grassy breath?
Close enough to feel her anguish
for the calves taken away?  

Friendship
Me alone in a new place.
For the first time living in the country.
Real country. Gravel and dirt roads.
Wheat, canola and lentil fields stretching to the horizon.
And dairy cows. Lots and lots of dairy cows.
Holsteins mostly, but one farm was all Jerseys.
Fawn colored, long-tailed Jerseys. Brown eyes, long eyelashes.

Every morning I talked to the Jerseys.
Stopped by the fence and said, “Hello Cows.”
One morning, a cow loped to the fence, looked me in the eye.
“Hello cow,” I said. “
Moo,” she said and came closer.
I reached out my hand. She put her head down.
I scratched behind her ear. She closed her eyes.  

Every morning after, we talked.
I said hello, she mooed. One day, a few of her sisters
followed. We had a group chat; 10 cows and me.  
I fell in love.