Our Mother, the Cow
Well, ya think? It don’t take too much imagination to figure out that the human race ain’t never been weaned, at least, quite a lot of it. An’ they’re drinkin’ milk from another species of all things, never mind their own. Holy crackers! I seem to have opened a can o’ worms on this subject! I’da never thought there was such a fracas goin’ on about cows milk an’ should we or shouldn’t we drink the stuff. It’s unbelievable!
See, I had this whole other idea. Well, you know how my imagination works by now, an’ I could just visualize about thirty people walkin’ around behind one o’ them long legged Holsteins with their giant udders, holdin’ a little milk stool an’ takin’ turns at a teat. Hey! That’s not such a far-fetched idea! Do the math. There’s about a millon dairy cows in the country, each producin’ somewheres around thirty liters o’ milk a day. That gives every Canadian about a liter each an’ every day. Can’t you just picture it? About thirty people followin’ mother cow around yellin’ “Mommy, mommy, I’m hungry!” Just thinkin’ about it cracks me right up.
At some time in the past, cows an’ people musta come to some kind o’ agreement cause we used to send the cows out to graze in the mornin’ after milkin’ (sittin on the little milk stool). They’d have quiet time all day long in the pasture without them squealin’ brats at their heels the live long day. So they could graze an’ ruminate an’ think about things without any interruptions. Then about suppertime they’d come back into a nice clean barn where they had chop to eat for supplements an’ have DDT sprayed over their mosquito covered hides so they’d stand still long enough to be milked again. An’ that would be the end of it for the cows. After that they’d stand around a smudge fire gossipin’ like most mothers tend to do.
I dunno who come up with that idea but it sure quieted the cows down a lot so they became more favorable to be surrogate mothers to all them weanling people an’ they gave milk gladly so long as they got fed an had a clean barn to sleep in. Of course I’m talkin’ about the country ‘cause them city slickers were too uppity for that. They was busy buildin’ houses an’ garages an’ fences an’ plantin’ trees an’ flowers. There was no room for cows. So they had to get their milk shipped in from where the cows was. Well that was a game changer for the weanlings of the cow mothers. The cows didn’t care one way or the other though, although they went through a number o’ changes, like milkin’ machines an’ schedulin’ changes an’ such. The farmers, to accommodate them city slickers got aholt o’ them centrifuges to separate cream from milk an whey from the rest o’ the crap, leavin’ the farmers’ kids with a lot o’ dishes to do every blinkin’ day, just so’s they could have their cream an’ butter an cheese.
An’ all that created a degree of separation between the people an’ the cow’s udder so they now think that milk comes from the supermarket instead o’ from cows. So the next time you’re guzzlin’ a glass o’ the white stuff, just try to think about that little milk stool an’ nuzzlin’ up beside the cow’s hind leg for a swig o’ the real stuff. You’d get a whole lot more nourishment from that than you would from the chemical crap that comes from Safeway, if you’re not too embarrassed to be sucklin’ away at your age. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.