“Well, anyway, I bet if I can tame her, like Ferdinand, Mr. Townsend will decide to keep her for a pet.”

“Hmm,” Micah says.

“What?”

“That doesn’t seem like a very realistic plan.”

Lucy watches both of us, as if she knows what we’re talking about.

“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” I say.

Micah follows me to the sheep pen and waits while I get their food together. “What are their names?” he asks.

“That’s Me, and that’s Ewe,” I say, pointing.

“How come I have to be the fat one?” he asks.

“No, I mean those are their names.”

“Their names are Rachel and Micah?”

“No, they’re Me and Ewe.”

“What?”

I realize we are now having the conversation Mr. Townsend dreamed of when he gave them these dopey names.

“That one’s name is Me,” I say slowly, pointing. “And that one’s name is Ewe.”

“No,” Micah says. “Really?”

“Yup. Ewe. E-W-E. Get it?”

“Ha!”

“It’s really not that funny.”

He shrugs. “They’re pretty cute, huh? Kind of like me and you?”

“You are the biggest dork.”

“Are you talking to me or Ewe?”

“Stop!” I say, laughing.

“See? It is funny.”

“Fine.”

Micah helps me with the rest of the chores, and then we walk Ferdinand.

“Aw, you’re so sweet!” Micah tells him. “I can’t believe someone was going to eat you, buddy! That’s terrible.”

Ferdinand gums Micah’s arm, leaving a trail of saliva and formula chunks.

“Ew!” Micah says. He leans over before I know what he’s up to and wipes his arm on mine.

“Ow!” I say.

“Oops, forgot about the burn.”

We hold up our spitty arms. “We’re steer spit brothers!” he says.

“Better than blood.” I grab his arm and press it gently against mine, even though it stings. “Make a vow,” I say. “Like you do when you become blood brothers.”

He thinks for a minute. “I solemnly swear that we will always be together no matter what.”

They are the same words we’ve been saying since we were six. Always together. But as what? Why couldn’t he say Friends forever, like normal best friends would say?

“What?” he asks, waiting for me to promise.

“Nothing,” I say. I wipe some spit off my friendship bracelet.

“Well, then, swear it.”

I feel an ache in my stomach because it feels a little like a lie to say the words.

“I swear,” I say.

He pulls apart from me, and we let Ferdinand lick our arms clean.

“He just ate our promise,” I say.

Micah gives me a funny look. “Sometimes you say the weirdest things.”

We walk all around the property, reminiscing about when it still felt like ours, and where we used to sled and make jumps.

“Nothing ever stays the same for long, does it?” he asks.

“I guess not,” I say.