I wish she were mine!
I would name her Daisy, and we would have long discussions on the importance of breast feeding and grazing.I mentioned my penchant for cows just yesterday to you folks, and I was not jesting. Ever since visiting my cousins farm, back in '72 on the back roads of western Michigan, where the mint leaves crunched underfoot, and sent an aroma like no other, and the barn cats were allowed to pro-create at a rate that would make any rabbit blush, I have wanted a cow. That day, in that country setting surrounded by fir trees taller then the silo, I was kissed by a bovine beauty, and it changed my life. Her tongue was the size of my upper thigh, and as slick and slimy as a teething 8 month old. It was love at first lick, and I have been pining for her ever since.
Those who know me, know it could never happen, as I am a city girl, and frankly, getting my hands dirty forcing Amaryllis for the holidays is a stretch for me. Mucking stalls would not be happening in my world, nor would the early morning milking. No, my ownership of a cow is not very likely, but a girl can always dream can't she?