Having cows in one shape or another for these past ten years has taught me many things. (Maurice: I know cows come only in one shape, but they may be live or dead, well-fed or well-done.)
I have learned much from my bovine companions. Not that they have tried to teach me, of course. I have dabbled in this business with a willingness to learn, and learn I have—and am still learning. In fact, my motto in this business is “eat and let eat.”
Here are just a few superficial lessons I have learned about cows: One, I wouldn't want their lifestyle; two, I wouldn't want their diet; and three, I wouldn't want their future.
Mind you, they have quite a life: they eat and drink, sleep and poop, but that's about it. When they get really spooked—or maybe just want to party--they break through fences. Chasing them has helped me develop my cardiovascular system somewhat, as well as meet my neighbours, though not under optimum circumstances.
You've read this all before from yours truly, but you haven't read the following: Cows remind me of teenagers. Human teenagers, to be exact.
Wait: Before you flip out, or flip over the page and see if you're in the obit column, please read on.
Answer the following questions: Who has few responsibilities for years? Who likes to hang out in a group, because of a herd mentality? Who likes to eat and eat, then eat some more—all day long? Who can give those responsible for them lots of grief at times, despite their free care and upkeep? And who keeps moving and shifting constantly, restless then resting, but never staying in the same spot for more than five minutes?
If you said cows, you're right. If you said teenagers, you're right again.
I know there are many exceptions to the above, both with cows and teenagers—at least in terms of colour, temperament, and usefulness, in particular—but I think I've nailed it pretty closely.
You rarely see a cow by itself, especially if there are other cows in the same field. There seems to be one alpha cow, and the rest just follow it wherever it goes. The same can be said for teenagers: One dominant figure, and the rest just follow; sometimes that's good, sometimes that's bad.
Lifespan deserves a comment. Cows have a limited lifespan, and shorter if they don't produce. It took me years to get it, though I totally buy into it now. I am slowly learning more and more about this business.
Teens have a limited lifespan, too; that is, they won't always be teens. They will grow up, they will grow up, they will grow up (I need to tell myself that a few times—which I just did.)
I have raised teens (or am raising them)--eight out of nine kids, so far-- for years, and I have taught teens for years in school, so I have a measure of experience in this area. Lots of failure, with some token success at times.
As obviously similar as they are, however, cows and teenagers can actually differ, in case you didn't notice. Possibly some of the readers (like vegans and vegetarians) may not agree, but humanoids are higher on the food chain than bovines—or better, all humans (and that would include teenagers) are higher than all animals.
Or, in the context of this column: teenagers are more advanced, more responsible, more mature than cows.
That may seem obvious to most thinking people, but sometimes the lines are blurred, in particular when it comes to whales, snakes, and burrowing owls. Sometimes it's safer to be a young animal than it is to be a young human—fodder for another column.
Now if there was just some way that we could turn the kids loose in the pasture in the spring, then bring them home in the fall...
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