When Pepelito dramatically escapes certain death in a bullfight, he enrages some and delights others. Taken pity on by Rita Silvera, a caring homicide detective, he soon begins to heal from the physical and psychological torture of the bullring.
Bu...
He retreated into a place in his mind where he was happy, touching Chicero as far as he could through the bars, if he couldn't calm himself down he could at least try to soothe his fellow captive. He pictured himself eating grass, lapping cold water from that stream on the farm he'd grown up on, or cooling down in the pond with the geese. He imagined the splodged cow he liked so much watching him from the neighbouring field.
Did they hurt her too?
Would he ever see her again?
He tried to look at what was in front of him but he didn't have a clear view and it frightened him. He bellowed in fear, setting Chicero off too.
The truck sped up fast as it went over several speed bumps. Pepelito felt nauseous at the sudden jolts as he was thrown around in the truck, hitting the side. His hooves pounded the floor as their water sloshed to the ground. He tried to lick it up but couldn't reach it; the rope was too short for his tongue to get near the puddle. He was feeling faint.
The vehicle turned down another road. It slowed down for several hundred metres. Chicero attempted to lick him but he couldn't reach through the bars. Pepelito's eyes welled up; he remembered Ladron groaning, the crowd's deafening whistles and cheers as he stood in the dark, filthy cell. And then, the ring, when the pain kept getting worse, so hot, so hungry, so thirsty, looking round for an exit that wasn't there. He thought of how his rancher and some bullfighters had chased him down on horseback to brand him. Just an 8 month old calf, he'd cried out for his mum from the pain, but they never gave him back; it was the last time he ever saw her.
He couldn't make any of it go away.
Finally the truck stopped. Pepelito couldn't move as the rope tightened and yanked him forward towards the drivers' part of the truck. A hatch opened from the top and one of them cut the rope tying his horns with a knife. The knife scratched him slightly and he flinched, tossing his head away from it. The divider drew up and the tailgate opened onto a muddy path. Neither got out straight away; the men came towards them with sticks. Chicero looked around, bellowing in fright.
'Get out,' one of the men spat, prodding Pepelito hard with a wooden stick. He stood on the ramp, not wanting to move.
'Just get out! What's the matter with you!' The man struck him harder and Pepelito skidded down the ramp and into the muddy pen at the back of the private bullring, twisting his left front leg. Other than two water troughs and a small pile of grain Pepelito could see nothing. It wouldn't be enough for two of them, let alone whoever else arrived. Soon even that would be taken away; no cowpats could be allowed to pollute Castella's pristine sand.
And he was standing by the fence.
AN:Poor sweetheart :(and in reality, transport conditions can be even worse :(
https://avatma.org/2017/06/22/maltrato-animal-en-las-ganaderias-de-lidia/ (in Spanish, English info at the bottom)
