Cow

I’ve named the cow you gave me Cow. Thank you for giving her to me; I love her very much, and you all the more for being so generous.

I’m just writing to let you know how Cow’s getting on.

Cow’s favourite place is on my bedside table, by the squat mushroom-like lamp, which glows very softly. She has the best view of the room from there.

That’s not Cow’s only favourite place. She likes the field with the little gorse bushes down by crag. She also likes the marshes, which make her hooves wet and slippery. And then there’s the little rock, which is good for sitting on and looking at the world, as if one were looking into a mirror.

But her favourite place is the bedside table (she turned around when I wasn’t looking and now she’s looking at me).

Cow may be silent a lot of the time but she’s a very good listener. And she will always reply, even if it’s only by returning your stare without asking any questions.

Of course, I wasn’t just writing to let you know how Cow was getting on. I was writing to let you know how I was getting on too. And to let you know I will always reply.

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