The Black Bull

I am with a group, visiting some indoor establishment that has something to do with care for large animals. We observe a healthy horse and it's keeper, showing off the success of this place. The
The group is led elsewhere just as I see a bull being walked into the center of the space on its hind legs and hooked up to expose its throat. A man stands behind it and as he prepares to cut the jugular.The slaughterer seems to have a ritualistic purpose, but the setting is so utilitarian that the overall effect is one of blasé Satanism. I cannot tell for the long black hair whether this is a goat or a bull.

The man begins to weakly saw into the throat of the beast, and I immediately start chanting silently ‘om mani padme hum’, and raise my gaze to meet the bull’s.
he stares back angrily.
We communicated with our eyes and thoughts. ‘you can’t help, why are you doing this?’
'om mani padme hum. I’m trying to let you know that you’re not dying alone. I'm here to comfort you.'
He still is restless and fights with himself as the inept butcher unsuccessfully slices through the neck. I keep my eyes fixed to the bull’s eyes, he doesn’t look away.
As I continue to send loving kindness to him, he finally recognizes and says to me, ‘there’s nothing left to do but die’. I tell him, ‘that’s right. You’re dying. Relax and let it happen.’
The vein is opened in a gymnastic arch, his black body painted wet. I turn away before witnessing the soul leave his great body.