„I’m telling you, the wolf has no place in our forests!“ finally came an objection from the father, who had finished his meal and leaned back with every sign of comfort. Now he could speak again. “We have never had a wolf before, and we don’t need one. Blame it on those who think we should let everyone in, refugees and wolves. You can see what’s happening. The refugees are also the ones who slaughter the animals, i.e. slit their throats while they are alive without being anaesthetized. The Muslims and the Jews do that. I praise the good behavior and the humane killing. You can twist it however you want, they just don’t have our civilization and our education.”
„Exactly,“ the mother agreed, „everyone should be shot.“
„The refugees?“, Katharina was amazed, „But that’s already bad.“

„No, of course I meant the wolves,“ the mother specified, „You can’t really send them back.“ „That’s right,“ said Katharina, „The poor sheep and the poor lambs and the poor farmer. I’m so sorry. He raised her with passion and then such a massacre. All dead in just one night. The farmer was in tears, it was reported.”
„And who is to blame?“, the father interjected a question that was only rhetorical, because everyone at the table knew who was really to blame, the wolf and the refugees.
“The EU,” said the mother, almost superfluously, “They forbid the shooting of wolves and that we send the refugees back. Always this do-gooder fuss. We are not doing well ourselves, they are supposed to take care of the poor people here. They would have enough to do there.” „But the roast lamb, Mom, it was really excellent,“ explained Katharina after she had eaten the last bite.
„It makes a difference when it comes from the mountain pasture,“ she said, getting up, clearing away the plates and replacing them with others that were laden with cakes. There was always cake on Sunday. homemade. She owed that to her honor as a good housewife. Coffee was served with it.

„Do you prefer milk or whipped cream in your coffee?“ asked the mother.
„I prefer milk, you know, because of the line,“ explained Katharina as she put the first piece of Malakoff cake into her mouth.
„Milk is also so healthy,“ added the mother, „especially at my age, so that I don’t get the osteoporosis that grandma had. That was still because of wartime malnutrition. They didn’t have any milk then. Only the peasants, and they didn’t hand them in unless they were paid dearly. And my parents were poor. The rich peasants only looked down on them. But fortunately, times are different now. Everything is peaceful and tranquil.”
„When I drive here, I always stop by the farmer, you know, the one at the beginning of the village,“ said Katharina, „He’s a dairy farmer and has cows.“
„That’s nothing new, he’s been like that for as long as we’ve lived there and it’s almost 40 years now,“ interjected the father.
„I know, that’s not the funny thing either,“ Katharina continued, „In any case, does a dairy farmer have dairy cows that give the milk?“
„Of course,“ her mother agreed. „And I also saw the dairy cows, they were standing in the barn and eating,“ said the daughter, „but then I saw something else, namely such small boxes that were standing outside and in the boxes were calves, very small ones, all alone. So, that’s a joke. Why does a dairy farmer take calves when he already has his own dairy cows that give milk?”
„Maybe he’s selling veal now, too,“ the mother tried to find a solution, because she couldn’t explain how it was connected either.
„But we hardly eat any veal,“ interjected the father, „I only read that recently.“
„But these poor little calves!“, Katharina came back to her discovery, „I felt so sorry for them, just as they were lying in their boxes and nobody took care of them.“
„They’re still doing well,“ explained the father, „I’ve just seen a report about calf transport.“ „And it’s to blame that we don’t eat veal,“ said the mother, „We’ll have veal escalope next week.“
„But one of them escaped,“ the father continued undeterred, „Imagine this calf hopping over the high tail lift to freedom. They have been chasing it for a long time, but they could not catch it. Everyone cheered because everyone hoped it would live. Then a sanctuary agreed to take the little one. Now he lives in safety. He was saved and not slaughtered.”
„What a wonderful story!“ said Katharina thoughtfully, before taking a large sip of her milk coffee.