I've taken cows for granted all of my life. Rolling up the window as I zip by on the interstate only serves to trap the smell for miles down the road.
Cycling with cows is a different story. Cows make me feel important now. They know that I have something to offer. Not grains or haggis, whatever cows eat, but wisdom, freedom, compassion. They catch my eye as I greet them with a low 'mooo' and that single understanding blink repeatedly brings me to slow down if not stop altogether. They all come my way now. Slowly, but with definite purpose. They want me to know that I have what they can never have. A future that does not include a skull splitter. Their intense gaze seems to ask me something that I can not answer. I do not want to leave them, but suddenly one of the beefiest cows carelessly lifts her tail and poops all over the back of a young calf struggling for a simple view of this strange traveler. I remember that they are very very stupid animals and that I like to eat them with bacon and pineapple. And I ride away.
Your a poet and did'nt know it.
ReplyDeleteScott
Your compassion overwhelmed me until the last sentence. You're bad.
ReplyDeleteP.S. - Bella is right at home here and being a very good dog.
Pappy-G
Dave, next time you see a herd of cows realize how lucky their owners are. Here in America the Farmers are facing a Flatulence tax. $175 per dairy cow, $87.50 per head of beef cattle and $20 tax per hog. Anne
ReplyDeleteDo Scottish Cows moo with an accent? Do the Scottish think that cows say 'moooo' or do they interpret their bellows more foreigny?
ReplyDeleteHorn