When I first saw them, I wasn’t sure if that was their first day or if they’d been trampling that way for many days more. My routine had shifted, and I was now seeing them daily as those wearing green herded them down the now-well-worn path. They didn’t wear a dark green or a bright green or a pretty green – it was the same green as the grass right before it starts to die out from lack of water. I was certain the path had never existed there before.
On that day, I actually held my head up and watched them. I was curious as to where they were going. My gut, however, told me where they were going. I’d seen my own kind being corralled in much the same way. They were never going to return, this much I knew. A few of them met my eyes and while they looked beat down, I could tell they were just as anxious about where they were being led.
The next day, I decided to warn them. I hollered to them. Many who were treading on the other side of the prickly fence were startled when they heard my caution. Those in green laughed and one even raised his gun, pointing it right at me. I stood still and strong until one of them hollered, “Abendbrot – Bang!” When the others in green laughed, it was my turn to be spooked and I ran. At first I ran in circles, then I just ran. They continued to laugh.
I returned to my spot a few days later and still more were being led away. I really didn’t know if they were being led away from where they belonged or to the place where they belonged. But the few eyes that looked at me – mostly those who appeared to be much younger – seemed to tell me that they were being led away.
I yelled for them again to stop. I yelled for them to bolt. To rise up. To scatter and force those in green to work for their authority over those who were plodding. I wanted them to put up a fight and resist going to what was sure to be a horrible place. I yelled and howled and moaned. I got no response except from one small creature who placed his foot on one piece of the prickly fence while raising another piece up with his hands. His eyes met mine and then our gaze was broken by the sound of the earth shattering, and his little body fell limp on the fence. Screams and groans cut through the calm country air and more booming sounds echoed in my ears as I turned and ran. I heard those in green shouting above the sad sounds of the others: Achtung! Töten! Umbringen! Bleiben!
It took three mornings before I could return to the spot. They were there still plodding with their own two feet down the path that used to not exist on the other side of the prickly fence. I wanted to bellow again. I wanted to bawl about the dangers, but they knew. The herds had started off walking much taller, much straighter, their yellow brands prominently on their chests. They now were hunched, doubled over almost as I was, their brands were now dirty and barely visible.
I glanced at those in green and saw their noisy, fear-inducing sticks and resigned my heart to let them pass. I turned my back to them to make it easier for myself. I went down on my front legs first and then folded my back legs under me and chewed my cud. I knew there was nothing I could do but hope to erase the sight of those on their hind legs being led to slaughter.