The fences are down and the boundaries are established. The pastures are bare and the cattle wander aimlessly in search of fodder. The farmer reaps his crop and milks his sacred cows with a gentle stroke and a smile. We take willingly from the allotments, then move through the barriers to our designated domains. Unlike Larsen's cows, there is no eye contact within the bovine herd. Listless and hungry, they will circle for hours until there is little light to see them home. Tomorrow it is repeated once more for most; never again for the weak and the destitute. Old stock is weeded out and fresh meat for the market is prepared.
We are not the predators; we are the prey.
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