Audrey (cow) Read online

  So take a small stab of speculation at what happened next. How do you think “the package” rewarded all our hard labor? Care to have a go?

  STAN

  (raccoon)

  She done run back to the meadow, she did!

  OLIVER

  (raccoon)

  It’s enough to make a grown raccoon cry.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  I galloped back toward the meadow, pushing and exerting every muscle in my body, as I imagine Roy might have done in his younger days. I was reckless in my pursuit of that truck, crossing the same demanding terrain I had cautiously tread earlier, but now at quadruple the speed. I didn’t care. I just knew I had to get there. I wasn’t even sure what I would do when I did.

  CLAUDETTE

  (cougar)

  Waited behind her barn-cave since sunrise. Came ready to hunt and kill. Heard two-leggers walking nearby in the forest. Didn’t care. Only cared about stupid, vicious Charolais. So quiet in her barn-cave. No fear-smell this time. Not any smell. Began to wonder if Charolais was there. But I knew she was. She was always there, stupid, vicious creature. Heard two-legger vehicle coming into meadow. Didn’t care. Not interested in two-leggers. Only interested in Charolais. Only interested in ripping her to shreds and teaching her a lesson.

  TORCHY

  (human)

  Why sure, I could tell you what happened next, but for a more vivid account of the blow-by-blow action, I suggest you read my story in the next day’s paper.

  AUDREY’S QUEST FOR FREEDOM ENDS IN MAYHEM

  By Torchy Murrow

  Special to the Daily Planet

  This infamous day began well before daylight, dear readers. While the stars still twinkled in the bruised, purple sky, yours truly met up once again with tall, rugged Officer Humphrey. We stood along a lonely stretch of highway bordering the vast forest that one brave and wily cow named Audrey has called sanctuary for over a week. Steam curled up from the cups of coffee that Officer Humphrey and I drank in silence; a solemn moment before what was expected to be the final chapter in our heroine’s story.

  With his square jaw firmly set, Officer Humphrey slung the rifle over his broad shoulder, flicked on his trusty flashlight and led this reporter through a tangle of trees and rough terrain toward a concealed location. As we entered, the noisy woods went eerily still. I felt as if all eyes were upon us, bird and animal alike, watching our furtive movements and waiting for events to play out.

  Clean-shaven Officer Humphrey and I huddled close together in our small, secreted roost. We looked out onto an open meadow that, if things went according to plan, would serve as the stage for this drama.

  Surely as night turns to day, the dawn broke and night turned to day. At 5:23, as per schedule, we heard the loud huff and puff of Red Bessie, the truck that many of you readers will remember as the one assigned to deliver our heroine to her death. On this cool, early summer morning, it was being driven by none other than Mr. Kasey Krumpfelt, the same hapless half-wit who lay hiding beneath Red Bessie, cowardly avoiding the overtures of a single crow, while Audrey made her escape. But this time, the truck was making a different delivery, bringing two milk cows from Bittersweet Farm to serve as lures to reel Audrey in.

  It lurched to a stop in the middle of the meadow. Krumpfelt, along with Glenn Parker, the owner of the farm where Audrey grew up, left the truck and began unloading the cows. Whereas earlier, the cows were bellowing from what one might only imagine was fear, now they stood silent. Meanwhile, beside me, handsome Officer Humphrey furrowed his thick eyebrows in concentration. Something was afoot. Cool as a cucumber, he lifted his rifle and planted it firmly in the crook of his shoulder. Then I heard what he heard. A thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump as quick as my own excited heartbeat, but growing louder and louder. Something was coming, and coming fast.

  It was Audrey! She rushed toward her fellow cows with the determination of a racehorse, dried mud breaking off her like the shell from a newborn bird. She came with fury, like a bullet, like a steam engine. Nothing was going to stop her, certainly not Kasey Krumpfelt, whose frantically waving arms were the last things I saw before he was bowled over. To my right, I heard the faint click of the cocked hammer. Officer Humphrey was taking aim. His arm was steady. His breath was measured.

  Dear readers, I heard the shot. It echoed through the trees, sending birds scattering in all directions. But dear readers, I also saw, seemingly from out of nowhere, the powerful, muscular body of a cougar leap into the air, claws out and sharp teeth exposed, and land on our poor heroine’s back, pulling her down hard into the long, wild grass. I feared, dear readers, that Audrey was no more.

  EDDIE

  (dog)

  I chased her off the farm and down the road on the day of her escape. I watched her standing in the back, so darn frightened, getting smaller and smaller as the truck sped up and my legs tired and slowed. Finally, I stopped running. (sigh) I turned around.

  During my walk to the farm, I had my first real thoughts about Audrey not making it—I mean, jeepers, not just being out of my life, but actually being out of her life, not surviving. Gosh, imagine a world without Audrey. That would be the saddest world I could think of.

  Then I remembered once asking Audrey’s mom, when I was just a pup, where we all go when we’re no longer here. “I don’t know, Eddie,” is what she replied. “I don’t think any of us really know. Where do you think we should go?” I doubt I had an answer at the time. But while I walked back home, back to Bittersweet Farm, watching Roy sauntering over to the orchard and the sheep returning to their arguments and the cows already grazing and gossiping—the first hints of normal life settling in again—I did have an answer. I think that if Audrey shouldn’t survive, I would like to believe she’d be somewhere similar to here, a place where she knew happiness. But this time … it would only be happiness.

  BORIS

  (skunk)

  She came back! Why did she have to come back? Why give those two-leggers a second chance? Why give Claudette the opportunity, for that matter? Old Boris’s heart was near to breaking when she went down. Guns and growls. My, my, my, the forest can be cruel.

  DORIS

  (deer)

  Mama wouldn’t let me go to Homestead Meadow during all the commotion. It was a nasty business, oh yeah! I woke up to the ugly noise of a monster chugging and belching, rumbling all angry-like. Then I heard achy moans and shouts that sounded almost like Audrey, but wasn’t Audrey because I know that girl’s voice. Then I heard growls. They were the nastiest—all high-pitched and sharp, they dug themselves right under my skin just like they do in my nightmares. And then there was this big crack-bang. Or maybe two, but I’m not sure because a fawn can’t be expected to count under such traumatic conditions. Mama said it was thunder, but that was no thunder. Then there was just silence. No monsters, no moans, no growls, no nothing. I said to Mama we should have a look. I wanted to check in with Audrey to find out if she caught some of the action. Mama yelled, “No, Doris! You stay put!” Mama sounded crazy upset, but her eyes were scared, so I stayed put just like she said.

  MADGE

  (cow)

  She was so brave, charging toward Agnes and me, her expression so determined. Farmer and the other might have thought themselves clever with their ruse, but Audrey was not walking mindlessly into a trap. She was rushing into the fire to save those dear to her. Even as I bellowed out warnings to stay back, I couldn’t help but admire her heroism. And then that vicious animal coming out of nowhere, and those piercing claps that sent birds flying in all directions … and then Audrey pulled down into the grass … her body so still, the claw marks and blood staining her hide …

  Poor child, I whispered. Poor, brave child.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  The first thing I saw was sheep as white as clouds. Or were they clouds? I wasn’t entirely sure. My head was so groggy and the sun seemed particularly bright, giving everything a halo glow. If they wer
e sheep, they certainly were very happy sheep, I thought, bleating hellos and good wishes and assuring me that my troubles were over and I had found true peace.

  TORCHY

  (human)

  If you bothered to read the rest of the article, you would have seen that I made a mistake, which I retracted in the follow-up. See, there were two shots, not one. Thought I was hearing the echo of the first shot, not realizing Ol’ Humph has the reflexes of a cheetah.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  Then I saw a horse sauntering way off in the distance, but her gait was not even. She had a bad limp off her back leg.

  HUMPHREY

  (human)

  Reflexes of a cheetah … that’s what she said? No, no, I like that … a cheetah, sleek, fast … yes, I like that. But, um, to be, uh, serious, I didn’t think, I just reacted. I had Audrey in my scope, and then, out of nowhere, this cougar crossed my line of fire. One does what one has to do.… She actually said a cheetah?

  FAY

  (human)

  As is often the case with humans, it all comes down to money, doesn’t it? The dispute between Daisy Dream and Bittersweet Farm and Kasey’s Delivery regarding who was the rightful owner of Audrey, and who was owed or not owed payment, was an unpleasant issue I unfortunately needed to involve myself with. However, prior to talking to those gentlemen, I had already contacted some of our benefactors and laid out my proposal. I wanted to be prepared. I didn’t intend to take no for an answer.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  There was a creature that I now know to be a donkey. His hide was broken in long ugly welts, and he had the saddest eyes I had ever seen. Marcel is his name, and I soon discovered that he composes love poems, always for Judy, who brays shyly before running to hide.

  TORCHY

  (human)

  Aw, heck and applesauce, don’t get me started, or I’ll be turning on the waterworks again! I didn’t want Audrey bumped off, story or no story. That gal was aces with me.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  There were so many animals and most, it seemed, had some problem or another. But all of them looked happy and content. What was this place, I wondered. It must be paradise, right? So where was Mother, or Madge and Agnes?

  FAY

  (human)

  I made calls, and I used my contacts and connections. I even got hold of that reporter, Torchy Murrow. I told her what my intentions were, and she got all excited, perhaps because she saw an ending to this story that might sell a whole bunch more newspapers. But on what she called the “hush-hush,” she filled me in on the plan to use decoy cows to lure Audrey to a spot where they could take her down. After that, it was likely off to the abattoir again and good-bye Audrey, so time was running out.

  Ms. Murrow told me where and when this would all take place. So the next day, I’m up before dawn, heading toward some unmarked service road and I—oh, by the way, just as a side note, I passed two raccoons sitting up on their hind legs, and I swear one of them slapped himself on the forehead, raised his two front paws in the air and rolled his eyes—anyway, I went down this bumpy road, and I hear a couple of gun shots. I reach the meadow and see a big red truck, two milk cows, a dazed-looking man staggering to his feet and Audrey on the ground, motionless, with a huge cougar sprawled on top of her.

  Something went wrong, I thought. I was too late.

  HUMPHREY

  (human)

  Having fired my weapon and watched both Audrey and the cougar go down, I rose from my hiding spot, took out my binoculars and surveyed the aftermath. Satisfied with what I saw, I passed on my report to Miss Murrow, beside me, who took the information quite emotionally. The reason that I didn’t get over to the bodies right away was because I was being … um, well, I was being forcefully held back by Miss Murrow.

  TORCHY

  (human)

  Well, lock me up and throw away the key, sure, I kissed him! Why, I just had to lay a smooch on Mister Wildlife Officer after what he did! Ol’ Humph shot his tranquilizer gun and put that cougar to sleep in mid-flight. He saved Audrey’s life! If that don’t deserve a reward, then this town is cheaper than a sock puppet’s phone bill!

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  I turned to one of the sheep and asked her, “Is this paradise? Is that where I am?” She replied in the softest voice, “No, that’s not what it’s called. The name is Sanctuary. Fay’s Sanctuary.”

  FAY

  (human)

  And then the wildlife officer came over and checked on the cougar, who it turned out was as fast asleep as Audrey, for both of them had been tranquilized. Audrey had a few claw marks on her, but other than that, she would be fine.

  The officer contacted his department to get assistance with the cougar, while I took my cell phone and called Daisy Dream Abattoir. When I got the manager on the line, I turned to Mr. Parker and Mr. Krumpfelt and told them why I was there: to demand Audrey’s freedom.

  I explained that I have a farm, Fay’s Sanctuary, whose sole mission is to provide care and respite for animals that have suffered injury or trauma. It is a place where these animals can live out the rest of their lives in peace. Like many other people who had become aware of Audrey’s plight through Ms. Murrow’s articles, I had grown fond of and concerned for her. Audrey’s story was strange and unusual. It seemed wrong to ignore the uniqueness of the events and send Audrey to the abattoir as if it had all been nothing but a glitch in the system. Audrey deserved more, I said.

  As anticipated, their response was not like-minded; there was the issue of money and investment, etcetera, etcetera. But since I came armed with sizeable checks, their voices grew quiet, and the business of buying Audrey was resolved quickly and without too much fuss. I made another call and brought in a truck with a winch. We kept Audrey sedated so that we could transport her safely. We hoisted her gently onto a soft bed of hay and took her to her new home.

  As for Audrey’s room and board, once the news media reported that we would be providing a permanent home for her, small donations made by regular folk started pouring in. We now had the funds to be able to give her comfort and care for the rest of her life.

  AGNES

  (cow)

  Okay, so, like here is what happened as far as I’ve been able to figure it. Me and Madge were chosen to take part in some kind of secret cow training mission. I know, eh! Like what’s that all about? (snort) But I’m thinking it’s on account of that spaceship I saw flying over the farm a while back. But then Audrey shows up, and I’m like, “Whoa! No way! She must be running the operation, which is why she hasn’t been around the farm lately!” And then this growling, furry space alien comes out of nowhere and attacks Audrey. There’s blood everywhere, which is really, really bad but also really, really interesting because it’s so gross. Oops. (snort) Sorry. But then all of a sudden both Audrey and the space alien get zapped by invisible freeze rays that turn them into lifeless statues. I know, eh! Did I hit the mystery jackpot or what! (snort) … Of course, Madge saw things a bit differently than me.

  AUDREY

  (cow)

  When tempest tossed

  When overwhelmed

  When life is harsh and scary

  Protect your heart

  Until you find

  A place called Sanctuary …

  Sanctuary. I like that word. I like the chewy feel of it in my mouth when I say it. I like that such a word should exist. As for paradise, there was a twinge of sadness when I realized I wasn’t about to see Mother anytime soon. More troubling was not knowing what happened to Madge and Agnes back at the meadow. If they weren’t here, safe with me, then where were they? But eventually my worst fears were put to rest when a visitor came by with news.

  GLENN

  (human)

  My daughter, Elspeth, announced at dinner a few days after the capture that she wanted to go see Audrey and make sure she was alright. I assured her that the cow was fine, but Elspeth wasn’t satisfied. She st
ood on her chair and insisted she needed to see Fay’s Sanctuary with her own eyes. I admit that I was a little curious myself. So I promised Elspeth that I would drive her there on Sunday morning if she agreed to sit down and finish her meal. I heard a whinny coming from Roy through the kitchen window, which seemed to seal the deal for her. Come Sunday, we head over to the car and Eddie, our dog, was already there waiting in the front seat, as if he knew where we were going. So the three of us headed over to Fay’s Sanctuary.

  EDDIE

  (dog)

  Gosh, I don’t know where to start. It was all so wonderful and exciting, like a surprise gift. Madge and Agnes came back to Bittersweet Farm bursting with news about Audrey—about how heroic she was running to save them, the cougar attack, the gunshots, and finally about Kind Lady Fay who offered Audrey a new home. She was going to be alright; alive and alright! All of us sure felt swell about how things turned out. We felt proud too, because we accomplished something important. But when Roy heard about the ride over to Sanctuary, he came directly to me. Roy said, “You might want to mosey down to Farmer’s motor vehicle come Sunday morning.” Darn tootin’, I would! Once he filled me in on what was happening, I knew that nothing was going to stop me from heading over to Sanctuary too, not Farmer, not Dad, not a tornado of sheep.