The shade moved

There is a tree in the paddock that throws a decent shade, if you are a cow who cares about that sort of thing. Paris cares. Paris had chosen the shade the way she chooses grass: slowly, and then not at all flexibly.

The sun kept moving, which is a rude habit if you have already decided where to stand. The shade crept. Paris crept with it. Not far. Just enough that Canberra's line had a hole in it, and a hole in a line is how a morning starts.

Spike saw a cow leaving the herd and ran. Faster is his whole idea of a plan. He herded the place Paris had been. Then he herded the shadow, which is even less of a cow. The shadow did not blink. Paris blinked at him the way you blink at a fly that has not yet earned a tail-swish.

The bull announced that this was the best shade, tremendous shade, historic shade, nobody had ever seen shade like it. He stood in the sun to say so. The shade, being shade, did not care.

Harare came to see if the shade was greener. It was not grass. Beijing pondered the tree, which is a fence that goes up. Tokyo darted through the dark patch and out the other side, which is how you prove a shadow is not a gate.

Suzy did not chase the shadow. Suzy sat where the shade would be in a minute, the long way, the way you sit when you have already done the sun in your head. Paris arrived there because that is where the shade went. Suzy was already in it.

Paris stopped. A cow who has found the shade she meant does not need a second opinion. Spike escorted the last half-step as if he had invented noon. The bull said he had moved the sun himself, which he had not.

Canberra had the line again. It went around the tree, which is allowed. London queued in the leftover sliver of dark, because a queue can happen anywhere.

Spike shook sunlight out of his ears, very pleased with how fast he had been at a thing that does not run. Suzy stayed in the shade a moment longer, because that is where the next Paris would be, and it would still be Paris.

Eight months old. Still puppies in the head. Working dogs in the legs.

Some cows stand in the sun. Some cows make the shade come to them.