February 4th, xxxy
"I SWEAR! THIS COW hates me," Nuka cries, not for the first time as Butter the cow kicks up sand and kicks the bucket to the ground.
He winks an eye closed as he cleans the dirt off his face and hands. He makes a punching motion towards Butter but the cow just moos, unbothered by his displeasure.
"You aren't gentle. You need to treat Butter with care," Nia instructs, hands on her hips as she looks down at him. "Try again."
Nuka pouts but draws the stool closer, flips the rga on his shoulder, uprights the bucket and flexes his fingers.
"Okay, Butter. I will touch now now. No funny business," he announces to Butter who only mood and swats at flies with her tail.
Nuka glance at her for encouragement and she gives a thumbs up. He starts exactly as she showed him: slow, gentle—firm but not tight—a soothing massage.
He has the technique down but isn't squeezing right.
