It’s a tragedy, and if we’d gotten here sooner—like when Uncle Tony died, so we could’ve avoided everything that went down back home and this last season of Dean’s show, which wasawful—maybe we could’ve prevented it. And it sounds like this was Uncle Tony’s favorite cow.
Sheshouldbe mourned.
I squint up at the sun.
Prevented the cow’s death? Uncle Tony’s favorite?
I’m relatively certain all these thoughts mean I’m dehydrated.
Or possibly I need to get in touch with a therapist.
“Gingersnap was a good cow,” Flint says, cutting me a look that says he, too, blames me for the cow being dead. Or at least that he agrees that I need to be more respectful. “She was the light of the pasture from the minute she was born, frolicking and bringing joy to everyone she met.”
“She was?” Junie whispers. “And we killed her?”
“You didn’t kill her.” He scratches his copper-brown beard, shoots a look at me from under the brim of his trucker cap—please note,hedidn’t get chewed out for not being dressed appropriately—and then turns his focus completely onto Junie. “She was close to eighteen years old, which is pretty ancient in cow years. She loved to run. Wasn’t so easy the past few years, but she loved to run. If you could’ve asked her how she’d pick to spend her last day on this earth, I’d bet you every ounce of dirt on this ranch that she would’ve said she’d go out running for the sunset.”
Junie blinks quickly and tries to discreetly sniffle. “So she lived a good life?”
“Good, long life. Especially for a cow in these parts.”
“Good.”
I slip Junie a tissue.
“Once, Gingersnap got out of her pen and spent a whole night tipping other cows.”
“What?”
Flint nods solemnly. “She was a real prankster.”
Junie cracks up. “She didnotgo cow-tipping.”
“You know what cow-tipping is?”
“Duh. I grew up in Iowa. Even us city folk know what cow-tipping is.”
“So you know a cow’s gone rogue when she tips her own.”
My entire face flushes hot, and not from the heat.
Uncle Tony used to make the same joke.
Oh my God.
Did he tell me stories about this cow?
I think he did.
Was this the cow that got caught shopping inside the drugstore?
“What else did Gingersnap do? For real?”
Flint smiles at her.
My throat goes dry.
He isnotthe weather-beaten old man I thought I’d find here.
