Took a long time to update, right? Yeah, well, my mom almost died. And then I had to write the most important paper I've ever written in my life—a 15 page grant proposal. But hey, I'm back.

Side Note: This chapter was named after the third installation of one of my favorite series, There She Is! Plenty of you probably remember watching it as kids.

Summer 27th

Being a farmer wasn't all turnips and roses. Not a day went by without having to do some absolutely appalling task or two. There were barns full of animal excrement to clean, dirt permanently caked under your nails and all over your body after a day in the field no matter what you did, constantly sweating no matter the season… Farming was honestly a disgusting job. Sometimes Jamie wondered why he found it so fulfilling. And at times like that, he'd remember how much he loved seeing his own fully grown crops, tended faithfully by his own hands, and his animals; healthy, strong, and happy under his care and guidance.

And then other days, like today, he'd find himself covered in blood and bovine amniotic fluid and think to himself, 'To hell with it, I should have gotten a desk job instead.'

"Whoever said birth was a miracle was obviously never on the business end of it," he gagged.

If the slippery fluids now coating his clothes and the barn floor weren't enough to push him dangerously close to bailing on his animals and bolting to the bathroom, the smell might just be. What a wonderful way to start the morning… But in the end, he really couldn't complain. The newest member of his ranch was born quick and easy, with no complications or extreme stress. Though he'd have to keep an especially watchful eye on the new mother and calf over the next few days to make sure nothing else went wrong. And, at the end of the day, there was something rewarding about helping bring a life into the world. It reminded him of the balance of the earth, and the way that no matter how many lives ended, new ones would always sprout up again in the never-ending cycle that was nature. No matter what, nature always marched on and kept moving.

Or at least… it was supposed to. But the truth was, ever since that day, the crops were failing. The weather was harsh and unpredictable more often than not. The animals got stressed and sick easier than before. Probably because they knew it, too. That something was wrong with the land, something was out of balance. Someone was missing. Her.

Maybe, just maybe, she could still hear his prayers. Trying was the least he could do. The Harvest Goddess did always love hearing about new life popping up in Flower Bud, and he recalled her mentioning she loved seeing just how different each cow's spots could be. He'd used that as a trick to tell them apart back when he was a rookie, which the Goddess found interesting. For her, she could just "feel" which one was which. She said it was something about looking into the eyes, and just sensing that animal's spirit. Made sense for a Goddess to be able to do something like that, he supposed.

'Harvest Goddess… Can you sense me, too? I'm still here. I'm still waiting.'

The calf, now freshly cleaned of any after-birth gook still sticking to it, shook its trembling body and wobbled back over to its mother without so much as a glance to the young man.

"You're welcome," he snorted.

Why he even bothered speaking to the animals, he had no idea. It was just a habit that sort of happened over the years, though he knew it was silly. And it was a sure bet that if anyone ever caught him doing it, they'd think he was even weirder than they already did. Not that he was looking for anyone's approval or anything. But he did have a reputation to uphold, didn't he? Hmph, then again, maybe it'd do some good after all. Letting someone know that they were so annoying that barn animals made better company would be quite the insult, wouldn't it? Even better that it was true; animals didn't say anything back, which meant more importantly they didn't say anything stupid. That was all he was asking for in a conversation, really. Was that so hard? The Harvest Goddess could do it.

Correction; she used to. Now all of his talking to her was one-sided, too… Maybe if he had someone in his life to have a real conversation with, he wouldn't be talking to his animals so much. When was the last time someone even spoke with him?

It's immediate and unbidden, the sudden flash in his mind of a dopey grin framed by those stupid, childish twintails.

Ah yes, that was the reason he didn't like talking to people. "People" usually ended up being her or someone involved with her. The idiot girl had infected the entire village with her presence to the point where it was like an epidemic. No matter where he went it was always, "Tina this, Tina that!" The seed shop, the Mayor's office, even Alex himself always had something to say about her! And what had she even done, anyway? Her ranch was a tiny operation; a vegetable garden beside her house, practically! And she'd only gotten seven Notes? Seven?! It was outrageous!

And the worst part of it all was that he knew deep down that she didn't just pop up out of nowhere. She was called by the Goddess herself. But why? Was she really meant to be a savior to her? If that was so, she was making a terrible hero. But then the only other option he could see was her as an obstacle to him. A challenge, a test. If that was the case, she wasn't much of a rival, either. It wasn't like she ever beat Jamie in the records, or came close to it. She hadn't championed any festivals, she was nowhere near his skill, and yet here she was.

A weary sigh fell from his lips. Perhaps visiting the Goddess, even if she was just stone, would give him some insight. He stood, feeling the soaked poncho cling to his skin as he knocked the hay from his backside and shivered. Shower first, then the Spring.

"Really, Mom," Tina said, a curly phone cord wrapped around her index finger, "I'm doing just fine. I picked up a thing or two watching you and Dad, y'know!"

She laughed. "You always ask me that every time I have a birthday! …Well, I dunno. It feels the same as yesterday, I guess! Hahaha! …Yeah. …Uh-huh, I know. Alright, well the dog wants out. I gotta go, Mom. I'll call again later. Alright. Bye. Love you too!"

Crouching down next to the back door, she ruffled her furry friend's head affectionately. His necktie was getting all dirty, so she'd have to wash it soon. And he probably needed a bath too. Pets were fun and cute, but geez, they could be such a pain sometimes. Shame she didn't live closer to the city, or else she could have taken him to one of those fancy pet salons. Oh, but that would be expensive. Hmm. Well, Tim loved playing with Mocha, maybe she could get him to do it. Kids liked doing stuff like that, right?

"Hey Mocha, when do you think someone becomes an adult, huh? I still don't feel like one…"

He scratched the door, whining at her with watery eyes as if to say, "I don't care if you're an adult or not, just pleeeeease let me out!"

When she stepped into the early morning sunrise, she couldn't help but look to the cliffs in the northwest. The Harvest Goddess probably understood when people grew up, right? She did watch over all the people living here. And plus, the whole being a Goddess thing probably gave her, like, tons of wisdom that humans didn't have. And she probably had some personal experience from growing up herself. Or wait, did the Harvest Goddess ever grow up, or was she just always the same age? …Did she even have a birthday? Or parents? Tina kicked at a weed lazily. It wasn't like she could go and ask the Harvest Goddess anyway, so thoughts like that would probably just confuse her. Jamie was apparently pretty close to her before she turned to stone, though. He might know. Making a mental note to ask him later, Tina heaved her watering can and set out for another day's work.

"I brought Moondrop today," he announced.

She didn't answer, as usual. Behind her stony skirts, there was a movement in the darkness, and one of the grey-clad sprites leaned over to peer at him. He gave a curt nod, his foggy glasses betraying none of his sentiments. The dwarf turned away and retreated into the recesses of the cave without as much as a word. Jamie could care less; the grey sprites always did rub him the wrong way. Unlike the colored sprites, they never spoke, and barely ever appeared. Come to think of it, he didn't even know their names. The one with the glasses was especially unsettling. Maybe it was because Jamie could never see its eyes.

"The calf came this morning," he continued, thankful for the privacy, "Everything went fine. You'll have to give me some inspiration for a name, though."

Placing the sunshine-hued flowers at the edge of the small cliff, he knelt.

"It'll be fall in just a few days. The time of the harvest. You used to get so excited at this time of year. You said you loved how the leaves changed, and how the village was bustling with festivals and tourists. You said it was the busiest time of year for you. This is when this place needs you the most," he pleaded.

The air in the cave was stale.

"…Can you not even hear me anymore?"

Jamie rushed through the tall grasses around his property, scrambling to catch the offender before the surrounding forest could camouflage them. Night was beginning to fall, the darkness growing and visibility shrinking. But that wouldn't stop him. Jamie was an expert tracker, even if his prey was quick on their feet. It was only a matter of time before he closed in.

"Damn you, you stupid thing," he panted, eyes darting left and right, "Come out and stop being such a coward!"

Up the road, near the slope leading to the mountain path, was where their eyes met. He stilled. There was a moment of tension and time seemed to slow. The other pair of eyes broke the contact, gaze lifting to the rocky hills above. As time crawled back to a normal pace in that split second, Jamie lunged forward, knowing what was about to happen.

"Oh no you do- damn you! Get back here, you little beast!" he bellowed.

The calf, bucking on still unsteady legs, continued her ascent at an alarming speed, disappearing behind a veil of trees. Jamie grit his teeth. Well, he was asking for an escape to happen, he supposed, leaving the gate open like that while he was cleaning out the pasture. He'd have to think twice before taking his animals' docility for granted next time.

He crept to the base of the hill, crouching in the wild grass. As silently as possible, he removed his shoes, marking the area by wedging a long stick into the ground. Having the element of surprise would make it all that easier to sneak up on her. The dirt and rocks scrape underneath his feet no matter how slowly and lightly he moves, but he hopes the calf won't notice. If he didn't know any better he'd swear it was taking hours just to reach the next wind in the road. But patiently, painfully patiently, he makes his way forward, finally spotting the calf grazing in a patch to the right.

'Ha!' he smirked to himself, 'I've got you cornered now!'

If he could just inch a bit closer, he could close off her escape route that lead to the road. From there, the only place she'd have to run would be the east end of the hills, where they overlooked his land. There was nowhere for her to scamper off too. A dead end. What a fortuitous outcome, indeed. He lifted a foot, just a step or two away and he'd be in the perfect position, then—

A sparrow burst from the boughs of a nearby pine at his back, slicing through the air with a screech. The calf started immediately and whipped her head towards the source of the noise, only to find Jamie poised to attack. She was smart, but not smart enough; in the blink of an eye, she was off again, headed straight for what she didn't realize was a dead end. He decides not to follow closely at her heels, because the silly thing's had enough stress for one day. But still, not even a day old and so strong? So determined? With an attitude like that it was only a matter of time before she crashed and burned—just like a certain someone else he knew. And just like with that certain someone, it was now his job to put her back in her rightful place. Really, this was the definition of cosmic injustice.

He nears the wall of the higher cliffs that reach out of Flower Bud's parameters, past where any human could climb. That's where he finds the calf, backed up against the natural wall and precariously close to the edge of the cliff, trying to find a way to climb down.

"Alright now, calm down, it's okay," he coaxes, softly, slowly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna take you back home, okay?"

He raises an arm in surrender, the other dipping to the ground to grab a fistful of dark green grass.

"Don't you want some of this? Come on now, you can have it. Just come a little closer," he continues, taking a tentative step forward.

It turns out to be a grave mistake, as the calf begins to wildly swing her head, snorting and squealing, backing even closer to the edge. He almost steps back, but then he hears it; the unmistakable sound of ground crumbling. The earth beneath her hind legs begins to disintegrate, panic filling her watery eyes as she helplessly flounders against gravity. Lightning crashes through his veins and without even thinking, Jamie dashes forward with every ounce of strength he has. He dives straight for the cliff, arms flung out and desperately reaching for even a hair to grab onto.

Fingers barely curling around her hooves, his pelvis slamming painfully into the ground, he grabs her with an iron grip, fighting to pull them both back up before they both fall to their deaths. The calf squirms in alarm and Jamie bites back a curse. He'll need all the energy he has to do this. Profanity would be a luxury at this point. After what seemed like an eternity of sweating and writhing himself backwards, he dragged both their bodies back to safety, trembling and covered in scrapes and dirt. The calf was spent, she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Oh yes, this foolish little creature was just like her; absolutely no brains and reckless enough to get them both killed in the process of satisfying whatever ridiculous new impulse grabbed her!

"You idiot," he seethed, popping up from the ground to glare at the animal, "You almost got us killed! Don't you have even a shred of self-preservation?!"

She had the decency to look a little guilty, or at least, Jamie decided he'd interpret it that way for his own sake if nothing else, and she raised her fuzzy head to sniff at him. She stood once more and for a horrible moment Jamie wondered if he'd have to chase her all over again. But instead, she moseyed over to him to press her bubble-gum pink nose into his face.

"Wh-what the heck are you—Auuugh!" he cried, his cheek slathered in calf spit. "What is wrong with you?!"

Her ears flapped joyously as she let out a pipsqueak moo. Disgusted, he rubbed the sleeve of his shirt vigorously against his skin. The little troublemaker already got his poncho soiled this morning, now she had to go and drag him off a cliff and slap saliva all over his face. And then she had the audacity to sit there and smile at him!

"Don't sit there and grin at me like that, you, you…Oh, forget it!" he sighed. It was hard to be mad at the thing when she peered up at him like that with those brown eyes, as vapid as they were. Good grief, they were even the same shade as his rival's. It was like looking right at her.

"A couple of idiots, the both of you, always causing me trouble," he grumbled.

The calf blinked.

"Humph. You're about the same intelligence level, too."

Her long tongue slithered out from between her lips, the calf maintaining a stony face as the slimy muscle found its way into her nose.

"Yep, definitely the same intelligence level."

Now that his heartrate was finally under control, and seeing as how neither of them seemed to be suffering any significant injuries (other than the bruise at the bottom of his stomach he just knew he'd have the next day), he stood and dusted his clothes off. The stars were starting to come out. Well, maybe it meant that no one in town had witnessed that debacle. He hadn't had to chase after an animal quite like that since his rookie days, and even then it was mostly the chickens that gave him that kind of trouble. Chickens were paranoid like that, always scurrying away whenever something came within 10 feet of them. They were fast too, the buggers. And small, so it wasn't easy to catch them. Just thinking about it was making him frustrated.

"Well, I don't have those problems anymore. Usually," he said, shooting a pointed glance at the calf.

"Alright, let's get you home…" he stopped.

That's right, he still hadn't named this little one. Lowering himself on his haunches, he inspected the calf. The Harvest Goddess did speak of spiritually feeling an animal's identity—something he'd never really tried. But even when he looked for anything in this one's face, now he just saw… her. Maybe that itself was a sign. He just had to go and ask for inspiration for a name, didn't he? He laughed quietly in spite of himself.

"Alright then, I'll call you something after her image. Let's see… How about Moron? Idiot? Bonehead? Numskull? Pinkie? Bubblegum? No, no, not that one. That's too much even for me. …This is harder than I thought. I can't just call you Tina, because who knows what someone would think of that. And if I called you Pigtails, she'd still catch on eventually, as dumb as she is. If that happened, she'd certainly get a stupid idea in her head."

The calf didn't answer, too busy munching away at the ground.

"I could call you Pig," he said. "I doubt anyone could figure that out. They'd just think I was making a dumb joke."

He lead the calf into the pasture, this time making sure the gate was shut tight.

"Yeah. From now on, your name is Pig. Got it?"

"Happy Birthday, dear Tina, Happy Birthday to you!"

Above the noise of streamers being popped, kazoos being blown, and clapping, Tina's friends cheered in celebration of the next year of her life. Kurt, standing beside the table, lowered a decadent chocolate cake in front of the birthday girl. Joe did the honor of lighting the candles.

"Make a wish, make a wish!" squealed Nina.

Carl worried his hands, "Nina, don't knock it over! Katie and I worked very hard on it!"

With a wish on the tip of her tongue, Tina began to draw a breath. She unfortunately never got to finish, however, as something began to tickle in her nose.

"Ah—Ahh—"

"Not on the cake!" Katie screeched, swiping it away.

"Ahh-CHOO! Ugh, sorry 'bout that!"

Ellen laughed. "Tina, looks like someone is gossiping about you!"

"Whaaaat? Yeah right!"

"Nope, they're definitely gossiping about you," Blue needled, "Talkin' 'bout how you came here to build yourself a harem."

The party burst out laughing even harder, and Mocha threw in a few barks at the ruckus.

"You guys are never gonna let that go, are you? Whatever, whatever, let me make my wish!" she whined, reaching for the cake Katie still guarded.

"Alright everyone," Eve lifted a glass, "One more time!"

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…"

I actually didn't intend to leave that last snippet with Tina having a party at the end, but I felt like I had to do something for her "first" birthday in this story. Of course, even if they weren't all mentioned, the main crew of current bachelors and bachelorettes were all present.

I came up with the idea for Pig when I was sitting in church about 2 weeks ago, and I figured it would be the perfect addition to this chapter! Especially since Jamie kind of subjugates his feelings for Tina onto the cow, that'll make things more interesting. It's funny, this chapter was originally supposed to be sad, but it ended happy. The fireworks chapter was supposed to be happy, but it ended sadly. Funny how stuff like that works. Anyways, thanks for all the support!