This is my Story. Please listen?

The other cows here in the dark say that we may have been meat eaters, butchers or hunters in our past life. Maybe they’re Buddhist cows.

I’m not sure if that’s true, but I hope that one day, we cows will all be free.

The day that I was born, it was dark and hot. My memory is not clear: it’s all a blur. My mother was there; she was shackled at the feet. I was born on a concrete floor covered in her feces and crusted milk, but she was soft and gentle and she nestled me in to drink. I latched on to her udder and nursed. That was nice.

I wish I could have stayed with mother forever. But within hours men came and I was taken away, pushed and pulled. I cried, I screamed, and mother screamed back.

I never saw her again.

I was brought to a dimly lit, sheltered concrete enclosure with others my age. There were thousands of us and we all cried, wanting our mothers, but none of us ever got a response. We were scared. We slowly lost hope.

I was shackled at my ankles and I was fed by machines. I ate and drank and slept, but never moved. Within that year I grew. I was tall but fragile.

One day a man came and pushed his hand inside me, way up inside—it was awful. I felt violated. This would be the first of many rapes.

Soon, I was pregnant. Milk began to rush into my udders and a machine was hooked on. I was fed and milked day in and day out. There was little time for rest. I grew bigger and bigger and I knew I was going to burst. Soon, I gave birth to my first baby calf. I was so thrilled. I thought I would no longer be alone.

But I was sadly mistaken. My baby came into this world just as fast as she left. The men took her! I screamed, she cried. My heart grew heavy and hard. I remembered my mother, and our cries for one another.

This cycle would never end.

For the next four years I was repeatedly raped by one man’s hand after another. My milk was stolen 24 hours a day. I conceived 10 babies, but I birthed only nine. With each one, I lost my will to survive. By number 10, I was so depressed I could no longer make milk—so I was no longer useful to the humans.

This was the same for many others. The day came when we all needed to be moved. I was forced to waddle along with my baby inside. I fell, got shocked by the men, and got back up. Others fell and never got up, and I was forced to step on top of them. We had to keep the line moving. We all did what the men wanted, too terrified to try and escape. In the distance I heard cries.

I was scared.

I waited in line, and I understood it was my time to die. But what about my baby?

I saw many of my kind get hung by one leg. The cow in front of me was dangling upside down, and a man took a knife and cut her belly open. He took her unborn baby out of her blood-gushing womb and smiled and said it would make nice shoes.

My turn came and I prayed that I would not feel a thing, but I did. The most painful death, however, was my baby’s.

Now you can have my baby for your boots, wallets or gloves. Now you can enjoy my milk for your coffee, cheeses and ice cream. Now you can eat my meat in your burgers and use my skin for your jackets and furniture.

Author’s note:

Since we humans spend so much time ignoring and playing ignorant and silencing the animals…we need to speak out for the animal kingdom and our friends the cows. Let’s pray that sooner or later, with our help, they will take back what originally belonged to them: their land, their life and above all their freedom.

How can we be truly happy and free when we are enslaving, torturing and ignoring the needs of sentient beings?

To know the truth, we all must search: but because reality is sometimes terrifying, we often prefer to stay ignorant. I hope you consider being vegan if you find a special reason for yourself. At some point we all need to draw a line in the sand, and decide if we support compassion or brutality.

“Be vegan for one reason only: compassion!” ~ Sri Dharma Mitra

 Like elephant journal on Facebook

Editor: Rachel N

{Photo: John Collier Jr.}