Cow Tales

There is a story posted by the AP tonight about a tornado that ruthlessly ripped through an Arkansas community last night. The not-so-amusing part is that a man was killed when his mobile home was blown into a tree. That is tragedy and I certainly mean no disrespect.

But then there is the cow.

Here is how the AP phrases it ... "Miraculously, the same tornado swept up a cow and carried it close to a mile. Its owner says the animal was uninjured. "

Hmm. For the first time in my life I find myself wondering what it feels like to be a cow. There is the whole "milk me" issue. I really don't even want to go there. Then there is the "eat grass" thing. Yeah, I'm a little curious about it but not curious enough to carry a plate of "Kentucky Blue Grass" up to my table and grab a fork. Then there is ... well, actually I don't think there is anything else. I'm not a farmer but my keen observational skills indicate that's about it.

Unless, of course, you go flying.

Do cows think? There clearly isn't much to think about. Milk and grass. Chew your cud. There ya go. And then all of a sudden you find yourself on a cloudy day, a little wind, kind of humid. But the calendar in the barn tells you it's January so you aren't too concerned. Besides, you are a cow. And before those thoughts even flash (okay, crawl) through your cow brain ... you are airborne. If cows CAN think ... this would probably be a good moment to do so. "Hey, there's the barn! And over there is Farmer Bob's house! Wow! Isn't that the highway? I'm over the highway! I'm across the highway! Woo Hoo!"

There is no point to this blog. None. You can go to bed now.