Death of a Cow

When a cow becomes a pet and lives for twenty years, it is inevitable that sometime along the line one would have the difficult task of seeing her demise.

Here is one such story just recently happened in the hot humidity of North Queensland. An old man now 82 has been raising a few head of cattle from the time Peter was just a boy. In those days, this man would take his children and Peter and his two brothers to the Boulders in the back of his truck. The Boulders is the classic, cold and wild swimming spot amongst the rocks, and the truck ride was part of the fun.

Just last week, one of his old cows fell into the creek and was stuck there. This fellow and his neighbours tried various methods to coax her out but to no avail. She lacked the wherewithall to move. They searched for her most recent calf, but it could not be found. They tried molasses since she was a molasses junkie, but even that did not work. The best they could do was prop the head out of the water so that the yabbies would stop nibbling at one of her bulging eyes.

On the third day, there was a terrible bellowing from all the other cattle. They had come to her as she lay in the creek. Their normal lowing had changed to a mournful and constant barrage of sound, one long forceful wake. Everyone about knew she had died.

When the old man came with his neighbours to the place, they found all the other cattle standing about her lifeless body. As soon as they saw the humans approaching, they stopped their bellowing . They were released from the Spirit that held them there, from their focus on her, and the wake ended abruptly. Two of the bulls hung about agressively, but the old man, only in his speedos and gumboots, shooed them away. These bulls, one mature and one still growing, were two of hers.

The way to the creek was completely overgrown, and fallen trees had not been removed since the destruction of the last cyclone. It took three more days for a path to be cut through for the tractor to reach her. By that stage, there was a very strong odor and he and his neighbours had to cope with this as they whinched her out.

The conclusion to this fairly gross saga was the great pyre prepared for her on a hill, some distance away from the creek. There the old queen of the jungle was lost amongst the ashes.