Sweet, thick air spread out like dampness itself as 217-82 took to the naked Earth for the very first time. It was 5:39am in Destin, IA, and already the air was hot wool out of the dryer. 217-82 huffed and snorted the July morning with her tulip-sized nostrils and thought: “water.” That vital element she mostly knew as thirst became her North Star as she padded away from Mario Sentito’s largest cattle facility.
Dozy with heat and distraction, it was Mario’s son, James Sentito, who had failed to bolt the sea of cows in during his rounds. 217-82 drilled her little mind through the incessant typhoons of shit at her ankles, the din of the other lowing beasts who, like her, were bored, aching and near-delirious with thirst.