Every few seconds, she lifts her head from the feed bucket and gives me the evil eye. I wonder why she doesn’t like people. I bet she knows her days are numbered and how unfair that is. Even though she’s awful, I feel sorry for her. Maybe if I’m really, really sweet to her, the two of us can become friends and she’ll be nicer and Mr. Townsend will realize she’s a good pet and won’t want to raise her for meat after all. I decide this is going to be my mission for the summer.

I find Ewe and Me standing together in a circle in their pen. Because one is black and one is white, they remind of me of the yin-yang symbol. I think those would have been way better names for them. They come over to say hello when I get closer with their feed. They don’t go nuts like the goats; they just baaa sweetly and sniff the air.

Finally, it’s time to tend to Ferdinand. I saved him for last since he is the cutest. I mix his formula in the barn, then go to his little hutch, which looks like an igloo. It’s a special design made for young steer to keep warm and dry. I’ve seen them at lots of other farms and always wondered what they were. His eyes are so big and dear, and his eyelashes so long, it’s hard to believe he’s not some stuffed animal with exaggerated features to make him look even cuter than the real thing. How could someone kill and eat him? He sticks out his tongue when he sees the pail, eager to slurp up the milk. When he’s done, I hook on his little halter and leash and take him for a walk around the property. I rub his soft head and try to train him not to nudge me, even though it seems like he’s just trying to say, “Walk faster!”

As we walk around the property, I try to remember what it looked like before all this was here. When it was still our special place to ride Rainbow in the summer and go sledding in the winter. I used to know every bump and big rock and where the dips in the land fell. We made jumps out of small rises in the land to sled over, having contests to see who could get the most air on a jump. Micah usually lost. He’s always been pretty cautious. I think the only time he won was when he misjudged a ramp we built. Ivy is notorious for making the ramps too steep so you go flying in the air and crash. I guess Micah and I were getting too old to play in the snow anymore anyway, but it still feels sad that we don’t have a choice.