print Print This


"Stock" Tip of the Millenia
The American Bloodsport
Animal Rights
The Apple Tree and the Oak Tree
Battery Hens
Bereaved Knife
Cattle Country
Companion Animal
Dancing Bears of India
Death By Night
Dogs Go To Heaven
The Earth So Slender
Farmer Boy
Fight We Shall
For The Animals
For the animals.....
The Fox
Fox Sick
Gold Fish at a Frat Party
The Greatest Gift
Harp Seal Eyes
How Can We Do It?
How in 2050
The Hunter's Trophy Bawl
I Saw a Possum Die Last Night
Jamaican Cows
Let's Not Forget
Listen to Chief Seattle
Little Red Riding Hood
Look Around
Mad Human Disease
Me Means Alone
A Memoir of My Mother
My God Says
My Story
The New Martyrs
Of Mice and Old Men
Paint Her Divine
Pig Crates
A Place for the Animals
Puppy Love
Quiet as a Mouse
The Racist
Recipe For Servitude In The Circus
Sabine: Five Years Later
The Silent Ark
Thanksgiving Wish
They Must Pay
The Tiger
Tom Turkey
Two Unruly Children
The Veal Calf
Veal, Your Meal
The Voiceless
Welcome to Our World...
Where Have They Gone?
Where Is It?
Where's Her Baby?
You Just Don't Care

Cattle Country

As I pass along the road and see
The gentle cattle grazing
Placidly in the fields,
A calf nudging and suckling at its mother,
While nearby two others frolic
Like any other children celebrating Life.
The rest of the herd with heads down
Chomping, foraging.
More than livestock, more than beef--these creatures;
I have seen personalities...emerge.
One beast lifts her head
And through huge liquid eyes
Stares at me curiously.
My brain is suddenly jolted
Into awareness of the reality
And superimposed upon this peaceful scene I see--
Scenes of the slaughterhouse.
Metamorphosis occurs...
My mind becomes bovine.
I wake into a nightmare!
The stench of blood fills my nostrils,
Screams of pure terror ricochet through my heavy body
As I feel myself sliding through hellishness
That reeks of unimaginable horrors.
I sense a fiendishness
Moving feverishly at the fringes of my awareness,
Like a demon's ritual dance.
Bellows, lowing, helpless bawling,
An eternity of pandemonium,
Panic clawing at my vitals
Like a banshee's howl.
I feel myself slipping
In the warm thick blood of others.
Suddenly, a savage blow cracks my skull;
I stumble as it knocks me senseless
But not unconscious. A sharp blade
Glides effortlessly over my throat
And I feel my life-force draining down
To mingle with the others who have gone before.
Double images tumble in my mind.
My head reels and veers crazily
On a roller coaster track
As my consciousness is jerked
Back to the tranquil scene of cows grazing
In cattle country.

Shirley Wilkes-Johnson