I feel sorry for cows. For one thing, it must be annoying to have so many people drive by your farm while yelling, “MOO!” out the window. You know what they must be thinking. Haven’t heard that one before, Einstein. They must dream about wearing a baseball hat backwards while driving by people’s houses and screaming, “DUH!”
I also feel bad about cow tipping, the act of sneaking up on a sleeping cow and pushing it over for fun. Although a study done at the University of British Columbia concluded that cow tipping is nearly physically impossible, since cows don’t even sleep standing up. Given the weight of a cow, it could easily resist a lesser force, such as a bunch of drunken college kids. I think the main thing we can learn from this study is not to send our kids to UBC, where hard-earned tuition money will be used to study classical education topics such as cow tipping.
Are there any famous cows? One who flew over the moon was pretty famous. Then one fateful day in 1969, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin actually walked on the moon, and that cow was suddenly looking pretty stupid for flying right past it.
Mrs. O’Leary’s cow allegedly started the Great Fire of Chicago in 1871. Clearly a cover-up, if you ask me. Who’s to say Mrs. O. didn’t knock that lantern over herself? She was probably planting evidence at the scene of the crime. Rumor has it she was given the nickname “Greyhound” for throwing her cow under the bus. Witnesses say she was seen eating hamburgers for dinner that very night.
Even if you throw in a couple of famous bulls, you’ve only got the Minotaur, a scary monster who ate children, and Ferdinand, the sissy bull of the classic children’s book.
Another problem: The most famous cow song is “Hey Diddle Diddle.” Not classic rock, not hip-hop, not cool. If you’re trying to establish your street cred, the last thing you want is a totally ridiculous English nursery rhyme that means nonsense. Maybe if Lady Gaga did a cover version it would pick up some steam. Come to think of it, if Lady Gaga went cow tipping, it probably would become an international sport.
Then there’s the degradation of the whole milking process. Having done the whole breastfeeding / breast pump thing, I can only imagine having someone wake you at the crack of dawn only to squeeze your private parts in a vice and fill buckets with your milk. To add to the humiliation, cows have to endure endless pictures of celebrities wearing a milk mustache and asking Got milk? To be fair, I wouldn’t blame them for starting their own campaign, Got Mad Cow Disease?
At least cow’s milk makes sense, and it does serve a purpose. (Think: Oreo cookies) But almond milk? How do you milk an almond? Try as I might, I can never find the udders. So while I do feel sorry for the bovine population, I will be thankful for their sacrifice this summer while I’m devouring my mint chocolate chip ice cream.