Bessie
She is old and gray, her steps are slower and less sure than they used to be.
Each day she saunters from the watering hole to the cattle gate where she
knows the master will be each evening with the food. The other cattle are younger
yet she keeps her place in line. She eats her fill and then returns to her place of quiet rest.
Tomorrow will be the same, and the next day, and the next, and the next.
UNAVAILABLE
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