Mike drank his fill from the water trough - he noticed his arms were getting a little longer, making it easier to stand on all fours. He wasn't quite ready for the full quadruped stance, but it was only a matter of time, he thought happily.
Satisfied, he wandered over to a shady spot beneath a tree where a number of the other cows-
{OTHER cows! I can say that! I've never been so happy!}
-And nestled down on the grass for a nap.
He stirred an hour or two later, as his father's truck rumbled slowly up the drive again. When it reached the barn it stopped and his father hopped out as Mike rose to his feet - no, he was already starting to think of them as his hind-hooves, even though they still looked fully human. His father saw him, and stopped for a moment. Mike was hit by a rush of fear - he'd been dressed when his dad left, maybe he was upset he was naked?
But then his father waved.
"Mike! Come help me unload the feed and put it up."
Feeling relieved, Mike hustled over to the fence, and went through the gate, closing it behind him.
{Gotta keep my herd in and safe!}
He then went to help his dad, as if nothing at all was strange or unusual. His father smiled at him the entire time they were working, but he was strangely quiet. When they had the feed put away, his father waved him over to a hay bale.
"Son, have a seat, I wanna have a little heart to heart. Now, don't start worrying, I think you're gonna like what I have to say."
Mike had been worrying, afraid his father was going to reject his changes, but he took the seat. His father sat on another bale opposite him.
His father looks at him, and Mike recognizes a look a quiet pride.
"You know, when this first started, when your tail started growing, I know your ma and I, we were worried, and we acted like it, and we maybe didn't respond as well as we should. But I know you know it was out of love. And the doctors assured us you'd only keep changing if you really liked it, really enjoyed it and felt at peace with it."
Mike, not having any of these memories, was processing this - apparently this had been happening for a while? It was medical, somehow, or at least doctors had been involved?
"And I know you took it slow, for your ma and I's sake, and we appreciate it. But I've seen how comfortable you are in your new role, and so has she. And I've seen how your changes have been speeding up lately. You may not have noticed, but I've been letting you go out into the fields a bit more, been letting you get away with acting bullish if you thought I wasn't looking."
His father smiled.
"But I always was. And I saw how happy it made you, how at home in your own skin you acted. You never used to do that, you know."
His father cleared his throat.
"Your ma and I've talked it over last night. And seeing you now - you've had some big changes just since this morning. Well. Anyway..."
His father let out a breath.
"What I meant to say is, you'll always be our son, but if you want to go and be a full bull, we'll be glad to have you in the herd."
"You-really???"
Mike could barely contain his excitement. His father chuckled.
"Yes, really. Now, you are STILL our son, so we'll expect you to behave like it. No ignoring us or pretending you can't understand us or anything like that. And you'll never be sold, and you damn well won't be being taken to the slaughterhouse when you're old."
Mike felt a different sort of relief - that had been the one thing he was worried about with his changes.
"But, other than that, you're our herd's bull. Stud bull, in fact. We're not overly keen on the idea of our first grandkids being calves, but, we figure it's not strictly our DNA you'll be pumping out."
Mike laughed, glancing down at his balls - now having reached their full, grapefruit size.
"Yeah, I guess not. Thanks, Dad. You have no idea how much this means to me."
Mike got up, and his father did too, and they stepped together and embraced. They hugged a long time, his dad gently patting the back of his eldest son and prize bull. Finally they separated.
"So, when can I get branded?"
His father laughed.
"I'm damned tempted to say you have to wait til you're eighteen, just the same as your brothers and sisters with tattoos. But no, we'll get it done tomorrow. Ear tag too, if you like. Not that I suspect you'll go wandering off-"
Mike nodded. It was the same reason his father had explained to him so many years ago why they branded and tagged their cows.
"You don't want to risk me being stolen, and you want farm hands that don't know me to be able to identify me and help care for me. I get it Dad, that's why I asked."
His father gave him a proud smile.
"That's my boy. Now, you understand part of the deal here, right? You still work on this farm, you here? You help us keep the herd in line. Having a bull who knows how to be a farm hand will make things a hell of a lot easier."
Mike nodded.
"Yeah, I actually have some ideas about that - if I can get the herd used to following me in and out, and we can rig up something where I can open and close the stalls myself, then I can get us in and out every morning and evening still."
His father rubbed his chin.
"I was thinking along the same lines, but anything you could open - well, once you're done, I mean - would be something the cows could open too. We'll work on it, ok, champ?"
"You got it, pops. And..."
He teared up.
"I'm so glad to be your son, and your bull."
"And I'm so glad to be your dad, and your farmer."