Morning always arrived gently on the small farm, carried on cool air and the low, steady sounds of animals waking up. The sun would stretch slowly over the fields, painting the grass with gold and waking the cows one by one. This was the hour when Dad stepped outside with his old straw hat and calm smile—and the hour when CUTIS followed closely behind, eyes bright with curiosity and pride. For CUTIS, helping Dad take care of the cows wasn’t just a task. It was a daily adventure, a lesson in responsibility, and a quiet story of love written in hoofprints and laughter.
CUTIS had grown up around the cows, but helping officially was something new. At first, Dad thought CUTIS was still too small to do much more than watch. But CUTIS was determined. Every morning, CUTIS woke up early, sometimes even before the rooster crowed, pulling on boots that were a little too big and running outside with excitement. “I’m ready!” CUTIS would announce, standing tall, even if sleep still lingered in those bright eyes.
The first job of the day was always feeding. Dad showed CUTIS how to carry the bucket carefully, not spilling the grain, and how to approach the cows calmly. “They feel your energy,” Dad explained. “If you’re gentle, they’ll be gentle too.” CUTIS listened closely, nodding with serious focus. Walking toward the cows, CUTIS moved slowly, copying Dad’s steps. The cows lifted their heads, ears twitching, already familiar with the routine. One by one, they stepped forward, their large eyes soft and trusting.
At first, CUTIS was a little nervous. The cows were big—much bigger than CUTIS—and their breathing sounded like deep wind moving through a cave. But Dad stayed close, offering quiet encouragement. “You’re doing great,” he said. CUTIS smiled, confidence growing with every scoop of grain poured into the trough. When one cow gently nudged CUTIS’s hand with her warm nose, CUTIS laughed out loud. Fear melted into joy in that moment.
After feeding came cleaning. This wasn’t the most glamorous job, but Dad always said it was one of the most important. A clean space meant healthy cows. CUTIS learned how to sweep the barn, how to change the bedding, and how to make sure fresh water was always available. Sometimes the broom felt heavy, and sometimes CUTIS’s arms got tired, but quitting never crossed CUTIS’s mind. Every small task felt meaningful, especially when Dad worked right beside him.
As days passed, CUTIS began to notice the cows as individuals, not just animals. There was the gentle brown cow who always walked slowly, the curious black-and-white one who loved to watch everything CUTIS did, and the older cow who preferred quiet corners. CUTIS learned their moods, their habits, and even their favorite spots to be scratched. “They’re like family,” CUTIS told Dad one afternoon. Dad smiled, clearly proud.
One of CUTIS’s favorite moments was helping Dad with milking. Dad explained every step carefully, emphasizing patience and respect. CUTIS watched closely at first, then slowly began to help, handing Dad the tools and learning how to keep everything clean. It felt like being trusted with something important—and it was. CUTIS stood taller during those moments, feeling useful in a way that filled the heart with warmth.
Not every day was easy. Sometimes it rained hard, turning the ground into thick mud that stuck to boots and slowed every step. Sometimes one of the cows didn’t feel well, and worry filled the air. During those moments, CUTIS saw a different side of Dad—a quiet strength mixed with deep care. Dad would check on the cow again and again, speaking softly, making sure everything possible was done. CUTIS stayed close, learning that caring for animals also meant being strong during hard times.
When one cow hurt her leg slightly, CUTIS was the first to notice. “Dad, she’s walking funny,” CUTIS said, concern written all over the face. Dad examined the cow and nodded. “Good eye,” he said. Together, they made sure the cow rested and received proper care. Seeing the cow recover over the next few days filled CUTIS with pride. It felt good to help, to protect, to notice.
In the afternoons, when the sun hung high and the work slowed, CUTIS would sit on the fence and watch the cows graze. Dad often joined, sharing stories from his own childhood—how he once helped his father, how he made mistakes, how he learned. CUTIS listened closely, realizing that these moments were about more than cows. They were about passing down knowledge, values, and love from one generation to the next.
Neighbors sometimes stopped by and smiled at the sight of CUTIS working so seriously. “You’ve got a good helper there,” they’d say to Dad. Dad would laugh softly and reply, “Yes, I do.” CUTIS pretended not to hear, but the words stayed close to the heart, warming it for the rest of the day.
As weeks turned into months, CUTIS became more confident. Tasks that once seemed hard now felt natural. CUTIS could guide the cows gently, refill water without spilling, and even anticipate what Dad needed next. The bond between CUTIS and Dad grew stronger with every shared sunrise and sunset. Words weren’t always needed; a simple look or nod was enough.
But the most beautiful change was inside CUTIS. Helping care for the cows taught patience, empathy, and responsibility. CUTIS learned that taking care of others—whether animals or people—required consistency and kindness. It wasn’t about big heroic actions, but about showing up every day, even when tired, even when it was hard.
One evening, as the sky turned orange and purple, CUTIS and Dad finished their last check of the barn. The cows settled in, calm and content. CUTIS leaned against Dad’s side, feeling a deep sense of peace. “I like helping you,” CUTIS said quietly. Dad placed a hand on CUTIS’s shoulder. “I like having you with me,” he replied.
That simple exchange held everything—love, trust, and shared purpose. CUTIS didn’t just help Dad take care of the cows. CUTIS helped carry on a way of life, one rooted in respect for nature, hard work, and family. And as the stars appeared above the quiet farm, it was clear that these moments would stay in CUTIS’s heart forever—soft, strong memories of growing up, guided by a caring father and a gentle herd of cows. 🐄✨
