Fifteen
"It stinks," Laura complained.
"Get used to it," Victor said, "You're lucky it's just the two stalls."
The girl made a face and clumsily, begrudgingly handled the rake. It was a foot taller than she was, which added to the absurdity.
After several failed attempts, she managed to hoist the rake without losing any of the soiled bedding and making the mess worse. Halfway to the wheelbarrow, Laura looked out the door and froze.
"What are those?"
"They're the damned things that made all this shit. Ain't you ever seen cows, before?"
The kid considered and finally nodded. "What are their names?"
His brow furrowed. Wasn't this the same damned kid that killed a deer and rolled in its guts when he first found her? She'd been completely feral and acting on instinct at that point, though, and Jimmy had always been fond of the livestock when they were young. It stood to reason the kid would be much the same.
"That one's T-Bone," Victor pointed to the big brown one before moving on to indicate the smaller black and white one, "and that one's Ribeye. Bacon's the smaller pink thing out yonder in the pig pen. Sausage is next to her."
Laura took all of this in with wide-eyed wonder.
"I'm going to pet them," she announced, pointing to the two cows.
"Yeah, whatever." Victor shrugged. "If they gore ya, don't come cryin' to me."
The girl abandoned the task at hand, running out into the field.
"And don't stab'em back, neither!" Victor shouted, for good measure.
In the end, his morning routine took over five times longer than it should have, but Laura was appropriately exhausted when he finally allowed her back in the house for lunch.
"Can we do that again tomorrow?" she asked, tentatively.
It was in that moment Victor realized his method of discouraging the kid with unpleasant hard labor had gone horribly awry.
A/N: Yes, Victor names all of his livestock after their associated foods. He thinks it's funny.