I saw her when I arrived home tonight. She had been in the same place last night when I got home, at the fence outside our bedroom window, in the shade of the massive pine tree. A new calf was with her then, but tonight, the cow was alone. She was lying down in the rough grass, her flanks smeared with dried mud that had crackled into geometric patterns across her dark hide. Her black face was coated with crawling flies, and foamy drool dripped from her mouth. The calf was nowhere that I could see. I approached the fence slowly, staying silent because I know that human voices spook…