Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Smudge


A Remembrance

Man-handled as a newborn Mathilda’s leg was broken, lamed by human carelessness. A veterinarian could have healed her, but no. She’d be worth her weight in meat, thought the farmer. So, he listed her for sale with the bonus she could be butchered on-site, a convenience. Then, a vegan Samaritan saw the listing and offered to purchase the calf. I’ll get a sanctuary to take her, she thought. Sure, said the farmer. Money was raised quickly to purchase and transport Mathilda to another state. But there are no guarantees, thought the farmer; this is business. Meantime, a spiritual Samaritan asked her church to pray for Mathilda’s rescue and wrote out her appeal for the pastor. When the time came to offer “Lord, hear our prayers” to the congregation, there was no invocation. Later, the pastor said he couldn’t read the request; it was smudged. The vegan Samaritan kept calling the farmer, but he wouldn’t answer her calls, though she had a fistful of dollars and a bag of silver. Was there hope? Sold to a higher bidder, Mathilda succumbed to the farmer’s knife and became someone’s steak and barbeque. Her blood on the farmer’s hand smeared his money. Her existence was erased before she had time enough to enjoy her life outside of the barn. The calf was not a smudge – Mathilda was a breathing and feeling being who had a right to life because she was already alive among us mammal kin. Sentient life doesn’t have to become our food.

- Gregory F. Tague, Ph.D. and Fredericka A. Jacks

Photo: Claire2003/Pixabay. This is not an image of Mathilda but of her likeness.

Copyright©2025 by Gregory F. Tague. All Rights Reserved. This post was generated by human brains and not by AI.