when I was a young boy, my grand father gave me a cow, as a gift. It was tall and had very long horns. It looked scary and had a wet noise all the time.During the school year, I couldn't help thinking about the up coming summer, going back to my grand parents' house: no rules or expectations, didn't have to wear shoes, eat at the table with my family either be home by 6 pm.
I wanted to be free running bare feet in the hills with my friends that spent all day shepherding their family livestock.
Every day, I will take my cow out in open fields where the grass was greener and tall so it grazes while I climb guava trees.
I loved my cow and I was proud of it.
I thought that it was the most beautiful animal I have ever came close to.
I guess the only animal that I thought I could take care off.
With time, my grand father passed away so as my dad then I stopped going back to the village.
The last time I was there, it was for my grand pa funeral,
I was 5 or 6 years old now I am 31.