Return to Cow (thing)
|I, too, once dated a vegetarian. We had a fairly easy truce most of the time; early on in our relationship, she insisted that we go to a farm and actually spend some time with a cow, convinced that that would ensure I would never be able to eat them again. In return, she swore, she'd never bother me about it again (unless I did something like cook spam in her kitchen).
So, off we went. We found a likely looking pasture, and sure enough, there was a likely looking cow in the middle of it. Actually, there were like forty of them. After ten minutes of making extremely amusing faces and noises, she managed to tickle the curiosity of one of the thickheaded behemoths enough that it ambled over, still chewing.
She proceeded to scratch its nose, rub its head, talk babytalk to it, etc. Your general disgusting stuff. Then she waved me over. I ambled up to the fence, leaned over, inhaled the rich smell of cowflop, and gazed at the cow.
The cow gazed back placidly, still chewing.
Then it spoke. I swear it. I heard the voice, and it was rich and smooth and mellifluous, precisely the kind of wise yet simple deep tone you would expect from such a large and placid creature. And as I looked into its shallow eyes (they weren't that deep) it said, in a clear voice,