laitimes

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle

author:Laughing sister

My old scalper was inadvertently poisoned by me and my mother, and we had no choice but to maximize our interests, peel and sell meat, and regret it too late.

In my elementary school years. After school, my mother would always let me choose between herding cattle and mowing grass. I always choose to herd cattle, and there is a lot of fun in herding cattle. At dusk I lead the cattle and walk on the country roads, looking for tender grass as they walk. I use the cow rope as a jump rope and jump as I walk. The cows grazed leisurely, and I danced behind the cows, or sat in the grass and sang loudly, or picked a large bouquet of wildflowers, or memorized the day's texts. Sometimes I don't do anything to quietly admire the clouds in the sky, and breathe in the free air with the fragrance of grass in the vast world. When the cow's belly changes from dry to round, it will have a great sense of accomplishment. Let my mother look at the belly of the cow I fed, hoping to get my mother's praise.

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle

Sometimes I get tired of herding cattle and feel that mowing grass is fresher. Carrying the small basket that Grandpa gave me, I ran to the field to play for a while. Seeing that it was almost dark, he tried to cut a few handfuls, and the grass was fluffy in the back basket, and the back home fell in the position that the cow's tongue could barely reach. Because of the cow's big tongue, it will soon roll the grass into the stomach. When my mother came home and saw that there was no grass in front of the cows, she would wear a gang. At that time, playful children operated like this. The poor cow had to stretch its tongue hard to barely eat two pieces of grass.

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle

I was far from home after high school, and the work of herding cattle had nothing to do with me. Slowly I quit the life of an old scalper.

One afternoon during the holidays, I came home. His mother was washing the dishes He remembered that the old cattle had not yet eaten in the pen, and that there was pig grass at home the other day. She asked me to put pig grass on to feed the cows. When I used the dustpan to fill the greens, I saw that the greens were yellow and green, and some of them had rotted brown and flowed out of the sticky juice. I asked my mother, can this rookie cow eat it? The mother affirmed that it was possible to eat. With a definite answer, I put a dustpan in front of the cow. About an hour later, I heard the uncomfortable gasps of cattle in the cow pen. I called out to my mother to check with me, and we saw white foam coming out of the cow's mouth, and we couldn't stand up, lying on the ground, and we couldn't even hold up our heads. My mother and I suspected that the cattle had been poisoned by the corruption of the greens in the afternoon. Mom rushed to the vet, and the vet took a look and said he couldn't go back to heaven. When my father came home, my mother and I told him the reason for the cow's illness, and my father didn't say much when he saw this situation. The mother saw that the cow was really lacking in skill, and led the cow to the bamboo forest behind the house, and the cow followed with difficulty. Seeing that the cow's breath was getting weaker and weaker, my father had to ask the beef dealer to estimate the price. The price thrown by the beef seller, the parents can only reluctantly accept. Hearing the news of cattle poisoning, neighbors came to watch the cattle dealers unravel the cattle. We began to bleed the cattle, remove the skin, pull out the internal organs, cut off the heads, break down the beef, and we observed the whole process. The beef sellers were busy for hours before they unloaded all the beef. Abandoned cow's blood skull skeleton cowhide was buried deep in place by parents.

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle

After the beef seller left, I walked side by side with my mother, and when I saw my mother's melancholy face, I asked how much beef was sold? My mother said it sold 500 yuan, and I said it was not bad, I didn't think that the dead cow could sell for 500 pieces of meat. The mother said that if it were a living cow, it would sell for seven or eight thousand. I was deeply saddened to hear it. Because of cow poisoning, I have an unshirkable responsibility. I clearly judged that rotten vegetables could not be fed to the cows, but because of my mother's answer, I did not insist on my own point of view.

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle

I felt terrible. This cow accompanied me from childhood to high school, from a calf to an old cattle cow. Every spring plowing season, he is an indispensable tool resource for the family, and has also produced a few calves, bringing economic benefits to the family. Later, my father bought a small scalper from the collection. But this little scalpel is no longer the little scalper in my heart. There is no substitute. Within a few years, the family's cattle had withdrawn from the stage of history. My family has never had a cow since. I often think of this old cattle that had not been inadvertently poisoned by my mother and me to end his life. Will it have a better fate, the cattle that have been raised for more than a decade have long been members of the family.

Vernacular prose: The death of my family's first cow (ii) old cattle