Stella writes poems and short stories and has published a selection of these on HubPages.
Down on Fairy Tale Dairy Farm...
'Where Am I Going, Mama?'
‘You’ll be leaving here soon,’ said Daisy to Bobby, her newborn calf, ‘so I need to tell you a bit about where you’ll be going and what to expect’.
‘Where am I going mama? I like it here and where could be better? There’s fresh, green grass in the meadow and your milk is so sweet and creamy and it’s just for me so where could be better in this whole wide and wonderful world I’ve just been born into?’
'All the male calves are sent to a place called The Laughter House, son. It sounds like a fun way to grow up don’t you think?’
‘But mama, I’ve hardly had time to get to know you. Do I have to leave you so soon?’
‘It’s the way it is, son. Every time I give birth to a male calf they are taken away by the humans on the day they’re born because those humans need my milk and they want to make foods like cheese and yogurt from my milk. They’ll feed you on something else at The Laughter House, I’m sure so don’t you worry about a thing and you’ll have some good fun there too. There’s a Laughter Man there so I’ve heard and he’ll be waiting at the gate, laughing, ready to greet you and he’ll make sure you’ll have some real fun - everything will be just fine. You won’t get a chance to miss me at all.’
‘OK mama but what if I were a female calf? Could I stay with you then?’
‘Why, yes but you’d be just like Buttercup, your sister and you’d just be giving birth and providing milk for those humans, your whole life through and that’s not what you call real fun is it?’
‘Yes mama, I guess you’re right, mama.’
Daisy, the Dairy Cow, will Miss Bobby but Knows He'll have Fun at The Laughter House...
The very next day, it was time for Bobby to leave and he was led onto the trucks with all the other male calves.
‘Goodbye mama, goodbye! We’re all off to The Laughter House!’
And sure enough, when Bobby arrived at The Laughter House, there was the Laughter Man standing at the gate, laughing, just like mama had said.
‘Dang... that darned ‘S’ has fallen off the sign again,’ said the slaughter man as the calves trotted towards him, ‘just as well this lot can’t read.’
© 2019 Stella Kaye