“They’re there again,” said Bunty, glancing uncomfortably through the window. “Looking at me with their eyes.”
The Aberdeen Anguses were put into the sheep field behind our cottage at the beginning of May, and since then they have all been cow-eyed over Bunty. Here they are just after they arrived.
The field is vast, stretching into the far distance, yet whenever Bunty steps outside the house, the cows are there to greet him. When he goes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, they are gazing in through the window. When he sits in the garden, they hold a vigil. Just as cats are drawn to twine themselves round the throats of those who are allergic to them, these cows can’t stop staring at a man who feels weird about eye contact.
Even at night, they appear. Bunty’s brother came by, and it was dark by the time he left. The cows knew. They were waiting by the drive when Bunty went outside. As he said his goodbyes, they stood there and watched him. With their eyes.