This is an excerpt from my novel Cinnamon: a dairy cow’s (and her farmer’s) path to freedom published in the Spring of 2024 by Adelaide Books (Lisbon and New York). The recording of the reading is below on YouTube and the text is pasted below that.
My cows were free, and I felt freer.
Cinnamon and Spice were in the back of the field with their calves trailing behind them. They had been impregnated before I started the sanctuary and their calves had drunk their mothers’ milk. Both of their calves were female, so I didn’t have to build a fence for a separate area for the males. But I might do that in the future.
Helga, who ran The Cow Sanctuary and who was helping me, mentioned she has a separate fenced-in field for the males and that’s something I might want to consider in the future. As the cows finished their treats, they looked up at me with their big brown eyes.
“You had your treats. Now you’ll have to wait for feeding time,” I said.
The cows backed away. It wasn’t the first time I had the feeling that they could understand what I was saying. I walked up the slight incline toward the gate. Big blue squares sat on pallets next to the barn. Bales of hay were covered with a blue tarp. It was work that usually I would leave for Jimmy, my farm hand, but now that I had been vegan for several years, I felt stronger. I had more energy. Besides, Jimmy was off this week. I decided to get a hand truck and bring the bales of hay into the barn myself.
Just as I was walking over to the hand truck leaning against the white cement wall of the barn, I heard a car turning into the drive. The sound of tires on cinders was followed by the gravel spurt of another car. I looked up and saw that they had arrived. It was Dr. Holt, the large animal veterinarian, who I had come to know as Jean during recent months. She was a steady customer of my partner Ainsley’s home-cooked vegan meals. Fortunately, I hadn’t had to visit her recently for any of the cows.
She had the rest of the group with her. They lined up at the wooden fence and began singing. Every song they sang had the word moon in it. Just for fun, they dragged out the word and said “moo” instead. They sang “I’m being followed by a moo;” “Fly me to the moo;” “Moo light serenade” and ended with “Moo River.” In the short time that they had been singing, the cows gathered in the middle of the field and looked up at the group expectantly.
“I noticed that Cinnamon and Spice and their little ones came from their corner to listen to us,” said Jean. She beamed at me. I beamed back.
She had saved Spice’s life. I wondered if Spice remembered. In many ways, Dr. Holt – I mean Jean – had set me on my journey that began with knowing others became attached to their cows also. Knowing that others felt this way too, made it okay for me.
This is Janet Mason reading an excerpt from my recently published novel Cinnamon: a dairy cow’s (and her farmer’s) path to freedom (published in 2024 by Adelaide Books) for YouTube and Spotify.
My most recent novel is available on the publisher’s website: CINNAMON: a dairy cow’s (and her farmer’s) path to freedom | Adelaide Literary Magazine (adelaidebooks.org)
and on amazon.com: Cinnamon: A dairy cow’s (and her farmer’s) path to freedom: Mason, Janet: 9781958419786: Amazon.com: Books
Happy Pride!
Janet Mason, author 