Thursday, October 21, 2010


I love cows. I really do and am an adamant supporter of their humane treatment. Temple Grandin has done some amazing work in this arena. If you aren't familiar, I suggest you pick up one of her books or read one of her papers about animal behavior. But I don't want to be a hypocrite here. I drink lots of milk, consume all things dairy, eat rare red meat and wear leather. While wildly delicious and diversely useful, I also like spending time around these animals. Even though they heave and sigh more dramatically than a bored tween and they don't understand your commands or react when you need them to. I have a scar on my foot from where I got stepped on (with full weight) by one of those bitches. They need people in a hapless and helpless way. Sometimes they will piss right in your face or buck your thigh or swat shit in your eyes with their tails. When I worked at the dairy regularly I would eat cheeseburgers after every evening milking shift because they made me so mad. "I'm going to eat you!" I would mutter. And I would. But there is something powerful about being engulfed by the weight of mammalian trust that tears you away from the modern world. This is what I am most thankful for, this is what brings me back. They are warm doe-eyed beasts with little brains and thankless jobs. They emit an incredibly docile sultriness and draw you into their calm. You are part of the herd while you are working in it. They know you are there and they accept you. It's cool with them.

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