The cow of Camargo

Near Camargo, Jacinta had a modest farm consisting of a cornfield, about twenty chickens, and a cow. It was far from the comforts of modern farmers; there was no electricity, and water came from a well built by one of the neighbors. It was an almost medieval life; however, Jacinta didn't complain, as she had chosen that destiny herself.

Although the work was hard, it provided her with some leisure moments, during which she set out to teach the cow to speak. What seemed like a joke to the rest of the villagers turned out to be a real challenge for Jacinta. Her first approach involved mimicking the sounds of the cow and repeating them every time it mooed. It took her several weeks, but she finally managed to reproduce the moos and understood that they had a meaning.

Excited about her achievements, she went to the village to meet Claudia, her only confidante. —It was almost like understanding a baby. I managed to decipher when it was hungry, thirsty, sleepy, tired, or happy just from the sounds. The strange thing is they have no concept of 'yes' and 'no'; in their view, things just happen, and they can't accept or deny— she explained to her best friend, who burst into laughter. —A few months ago, you wanted the cow to talk, and now you talk like a cow— was the comment that infuriated Jacinta so much that she left and returned to the solitude of her farm.

That night, she hugged each of the animals and placed some food in her bag before walking towards the mountains. At least, that's Claudia's deduction when she found the farm deserted, without Jacinta, without the cow, and with the chickens dead from starvation. The rustic dwelling is still there, crumbling a little more every day. No one wants to inhabit it, as it seems haunted. —There's no more terrifying sound at night than the cries of hundreds of cows— the grandparents say when they want to scare the spoiled children of Camargo.