"Dad, it's a genetic research facility. The Wilsons sold it ten years ago."
"Well, the Wilsons had it since the depression. I'll call that jackalope factory whatever I like!"
Casey huffed. "I work at a genetics lab."
So much for that conversation, he thought to himself. Clay returned his focus on the Cibola skyline.
Clay was in the stables, trying to gauge how much of the old Wilson farm was left. They had kept the structure (it always was a jewel), but it smelled different. They still used it for livestock; maybe the cleaning and disinfecting were overpowering the few animals they kept. Or maybe they were feeding them something weird. He knew he raised Casey to have a conscience about this science, but he didn't know the rest of them...A knock at the wall; Casey was trying to get his attention. "You gotta see this."
"You said it was a longhorn.""We call her 'longhorn'. For obvious reasons."
Clay leaned forward against the railing, staring at the triceratops at the other end of the pen. She lay out in the sun, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Clay tightened his grip on the railing, and he wondered if it would be strong enough for when she got mad.
Casey was enjoying the shock on her father's face. "She's still a calf, about a third of what we expect her to grow. So we need to reinforce her domesticated tendencies."
"Domesticated tendencies?"
"We boosted some of the genetic markers for empathic bonding - not enough to make it a new species this go-round, just a nudge in the right direction. She's as docile as your average brahma."
Clay let out a huff. "Brahma, huh?... Well, let's get a bale out." He dragged some hay out of the truck and shoved it over the fence. Still ignored by the longhorn, Clay tapped his knife on the metal railing. "Breakfast! Here, girl!"
He turned to see if Casey was amused. But Casey was having an argument with a man in a banker's suit. Clay turned his attention back to the longhorn, and her ground-trembling steps. Clay stood knee-high in the hay, kicking it around, staring sideways at the longhorn's approach. She grunted, snuffling at the hay, deciding it was worth eating. She was humid, radiating every drop of morning sun it had soaked in. Clay grabbed a handful of straw and took a few steps back, facing sideways. He murmured to drown out the distant shouting match, "Don't worry about them. Just the two of us..."
Watching Casey argue, Clay saw his wife's fists and shoulders. The expression on the suit's face was determined, but he was reasoning with a hornet. Clay smiled.
He felt a tug on the hay in his hand; he let it go. She was by his side now, chewing loudly. He said to her, "I don't know how much time we got here, girl. What say we get to know each other?"
A large piece of cud fell onto his boot. With her thick tongue, she licked the cud back noisily back into her mouth. He stepped onto the gate, out of the path of the longhorn's appetite.
Casey, still arguing with the suit, remained unaware of her father's progress. Clay looked back at the longhorn, placidly sopping up the remaining hay. "Now or never, I guess..." He pushed off, aiming behind the crown.
He didn't know if it was contact with the longhorn's back or her fringe that started it, but she bellowed from the shock. She ran the perimeter, bucking and roaring. Clay held tightly to her crown, splayed across her back, talking softly into every part of her body he thought could be her ears. As the longhorn slowed down, he began to pet at her neck, soothing her. After half a minute, she was calm enough for Clay to seat himself upright, and see the infuriated expression on his daughter's face. The suit had fainted into the dirt.
Before Casey could release an ounce of fury, Clay held up his hand, signaling her to keep calm. "We got an understanding. Get another bale."
inspired by Discover Magazine article, "New Dino, Cousin of Triceratops, Discovered"
Clay was in the stables, trying to gauge how much of the old Wilson farm was left. They had kept the structure (it always was a jewel), but it smelled different. They still used it for livestock; maybe the cleaning and disinfecting were overpowering the few animals they kept. Or maybe they were feeding them something weird. He knew he raised Casey to have a conscience about this science, but he didn't know the rest of them...A knock at the wall; Casey was trying to get his attention. "You gotta see this."
"You said it was a longhorn.""We call her 'longhorn'. For obvious reasons."
Clay leaned forward against the railing, staring at the triceratops at the other end of the pen. She lay out in the sun, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Clay tightened his grip on the railing, and he wondered if it would be strong enough for when she got mad.
Casey was enjoying the shock on her father's face. "She's still a calf, about a third of what we expect her to grow. So we need to reinforce her domesticated tendencies."
"Domesticated tendencies?"
"We boosted some of the genetic markers for empathic bonding - not enough to make it a new species this go-round, just a nudge in the right direction. She's as docile as your average brahma."
Clay let out a huff. "Brahma, huh?... Well, let's get a bale out." He dragged some hay out of the truck and shoved it over the fence. Still ignored by the longhorn, Clay tapped his knife on the metal railing. "Breakfast! Here, girl!"
He turned to see if Casey was amused. But Casey was having an argument with a man in a banker's suit. Clay turned his attention back to the longhorn, and her ground-trembling steps. Clay stood knee-high in the hay, kicking it around, staring sideways at the longhorn's approach. She grunted, snuffling at the hay, deciding it was worth eating. She was humid, radiating every drop of morning sun it had soaked in. Clay grabbed a handful of straw and took a few steps back, facing sideways. He murmured to drown out the distant shouting match, "Don't worry about them. Just the two of us..."
Watching Casey argue, Clay saw his wife's fists and shoulders. The expression on the suit's face was determined, but he was reasoning with a hornet. Clay smiled.
He felt a tug on the hay in his hand; he let it go. She was by his side now, chewing loudly. He said to her, "I don't know how much time we got here, girl. What say we get to know each other?"
A large piece of cud fell onto his boot. With her thick tongue, she licked the cud back noisily back into her mouth. He stepped onto the gate, out of the path of the longhorn's appetite.
Casey, still arguing with the suit, remained unaware of her father's progress. Clay looked back at the longhorn, placidly sopping up the remaining hay. "Now or never, I guess..." He pushed off, aiming behind the crown.
He didn't know if it was contact with the longhorn's back or her fringe that started it, but she bellowed from the shock. She ran the perimeter, bucking and roaring. Clay held tightly to her crown, splayed across her back, talking softly into every part of her body he thought could be her ears. As the longhorn slowed down, he began to pet at her neck, soothing her. After half a minute, she was calm enough for Clay to seat himself upright, and see the infuriated expression on his daughter's face. The suit had fainted into the dirt.
Before Casey could release an ounce of fury, Clay held up his hand, signaling her to keep calm. "We got an understanding. Get another bale."
inspired by Discover Magazine article, "New Dino, Cousin of Triceratops, Discovered"
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