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The Rural Voice, 1982-06, Page 12When I was on the farm, I took a spill and broke my arm. My friend told me to milk a cow, Then I said "I don't know how"! I do not like to drive the tractor, I would rather be an actor, I would have to do the chores, The thing I hate most is to feed the boars. I said to Lorne, The calf is born. When I look at the sheep, It makes me think of Little Bo -Peep. If I did live on a farm, I probably wouldn't break my arm. There is one thing I wouldn't like, I wouldn't get time to ride my bike. This is all I have to say, I have to go and fork the hay. Tammy Arnold, 10 Summer blossoms die soon 1 blame no one, I knew it wasn't forever But still — I always thought you would stay. It was summer and perhaps the sunlight blinded. Me. but not you; you always knew the end was yours. To give. And you gave. People say I'll forget. "First love dies quickly, dear. There'll be others." But still I think of you. The summer ended and so did we. But why? I'll never know and maybe you won't either. The ache isn't as sharp now; It has turned to bitterness The beautiful summer blossoming of a rose Turned brown and crumbled in autumn. Only the thorny barb is left — Embedded in my heart, Val Montgomery, 18 I like working on the farm Sometimes I feed the cattle with hay. I throw down hay and I throw down chop. 1 am helping my Dad when I do these tings. I also like to help my Mom work in the house. I vacuum. 1 help my Mom pick up toys. 1 like to play outside. What I do is ride my bike and play in the sandbox. I am happy when I help my Mom and my Dad. I am glad when I play outside on the farm. Troy Ducharme, 5 The Pet I am sure everyone has a favourite pet - a dog, a cat or maybe even a mouse - but mine is different. Mine is a little baby calf. It all began one day last summer when my dad went to the ranch. While walking around he came upon a little calf. At first he could not figure out which cow was its mother. He walked on a little farther and he found another calf but the mother was standing beside it. Dad finally decided that this cow had twins but she didn't seem to like the one. She didn't even want to look at the poor little thing, so my father brought it home. It was so small we could pick it up and carry it all around. We then had to decide how to feed the little creature. We found a pop bottle and put a big nipple on the end of it. The calf sure did like it. It drank milk from the bottle and that is all it ate. The only thing our family seemed to talk about at the supper table that night was the little calf. The next big problem was to come up with a name. Dad told us it was a girl so that got us on the right track. A very detailed discussion followed but we did decide on the name "Stephanie" after my sister's best friend. Stephanie soon became quite a novelty as we had her tied to a little stick which was simply stuck in the ground in the middle of the front lawn. Car after car would stop to look at her. She looked just like a little deer as she was the colour of one. When Stephanie got a little bigger we taught her to drink out of a pail and we could also lead her on a rope. She was sure a good friend. Everywhere we went she would go too. When the weather got a little cooler we fixed up the old chicken coop and put straw in it. We tried to make her as comfortable as we could but by this time she was getting pretty stubborn. It seemed she was everywhere we didn't want her to be and it took quite a bit of pushing sometimes to get her back in her pen. W e have Stephanie in the barn now with the other cattle but she is still real tame and likes to follow people around. I don't think she will ever get very wild even though she will go out on the ranch next summer with the other cattle. I believe that Stephanie will never forget that it wasn't her own mother who looked after her and fed and cared for her but rather it was a whole group of adopted mothers. Jamie Mielausen, 17 PG. 12 THE RURAL VOICE/JUNE 1982