Hope the Dairy Cow

My Mom once got an old dairy cow. The first day "Hope” lived with us, my mom's sister arrived to claim her share of the milk. Libby didn’t look kindly upon her impatience, and so refused. Had it been the second day, we would have graciously given the still-warm, mastitis-ridden, milk-pail with kicked-up mud settled in the bottom. But they did not wait. And so they were punished. Crazed by Libby's “selfishness”, Aunt Karen verbally harassed us all, and scolded my mother for not teaching us good Christian values. Libby didn't bother fighting; she just hid the milk. Well played.