New Zealand TOS member, Stephanie Bretherton, shares a personal story and her hope that this herd of cattle, ultimately destined for the violence of slaughter, will remember an alternative experience with humans marked by gentleness and compassion.

I have made some new friends over the summer months.  They all knew each other long before I made their acquaintance but they still welcomed me into their close knit group and we are getting to know each other more and more each time we meet.

Queen Elizabeth II once said, "Grief is the price we pay for love" and I fear I will have to pay-up sooner than I know.  You see, my friends are blissfully unaware that they are on death row.  Their only crime – they were born cows.

A couple of times each week, I pay them a visit to feed them apples and other tasty morsels like carrots, lettuce and the cereal biscuits, Weetbix. 

Sometimes my daughters join me, or my husband, who prefers to observe from a comfortable distance.  A couple of close friends have also come to feed the cows and others have said they'd like to sometime.  Like us, the cows have their individual preferences.  Some like the  Weetbix, others spit them out preferring the apple.  Some enjoy lettuce while others turn their noses up at it.  A couple of them are noticeably confident and assert themselves to get more than their fair share of what's on offer by pushing others out of the way and nudging me with their heads to make sure I don't forget they are there.  You can be sure these two will always be at front of the herd of which there are only 15.

A few of them don't show any interest whatsoever, seeming to prefer to graze the grass rather than approach this strange visitor.  If I approach them they are wary of me but stretch their necks as far as they will reach to investigate the piece of apple in my hand.  A long tongue sometimes attempts to wrap itself around the treat, other times they just back away.  I throw the apple in the grass at their feet.  They find it and it’s gone.

Some of the more confident ones like having you rub their heads and necks as you would a cat or dog and actually seem to enjoy the contact with another species.  They also show their excitement in a similar way to that I have seen in horses, and my dog, running and kicking their back legs up in a frisky manner.  My friends who came to feed them with me are Hare Krishna devotees who hold cows sacred.  As they fed each cow, they greeted them with "Hare Krishna", the holy name of Krishna being transcendentally blissful and bestowing all spiritual benedictions.  I was touched by their love for these gentle creatures.

Why bother?  The herd grazes peacefully on the hillside, right beside the wooden pens and ramp that will ultimately lead them onto a truck which will take them to their death.  They will then know how brutal humans can be but I would like to think that they will take with them the knowledge that we're not all like that.  That they will remember an experience of human contact, love and kindness and the lingering taste of apples.