To be a cow


I’ve got these people in my life that are my antithesis.  They’re a bane.  A scourge.  The devil’s boogers being flicked all over my soul.  They’re my in-laws.

Father in-law is a strong, stoic man.  He’s a beef cattle farmer and has no sense of humor.  He clogs all of our toilets when he visits.

Mother in-law is a harpy.  She preys on those who are timid, and enjoys terrorizing the one who stole her son’s affection.  She also has no sense of humor.  How could such a vile creature spawn a boy with a remarkably twisted sense of humor?

This story is about a cow, and how sometimes I wish I could be made into burgers too.

Cow #1 was one of the original herd members when the farm was purchased 13 years ago.  She was just a heifer then, but grew up to be a great mom, and a beloved pet.  She was the alpha when the bulls were penned.  Don’t cross #1, she’ll give you a good spanking!

Around her eleventh year, her hooves started degrading and she became lame.  In pain, and barely able to walk, the vet said there was nothing they could do besides humanely dispatching her, or taking her to market to be sold off as ground chuck.

They tried ointments, keeping her in the barn on a mountain of pine shavings and hay to take the stress off of her legs, and she only continued to get worse.  Toilet clogger had seen enough, and off to market she went.

The harpy was quite attached to old #1, and frantically called the entire family to attend the auction in an attempt to buy her back.  Get her a cow power scooter or something.  Toilet clogger was there and prevented such transgressions.

There was a period of mourning after #1 was sold, and harpy still tears up when she talks about her.

I’m pretty lame myself, and it seems the humane thing to do is to dispatch me or take me to market.  The difference between me and #1 besides species, is that human wheelchairs are far less expensive than bovine power scooters.

11 thoughts on “To be a cow

  1. My mother in law is still vicious to me after nine years. Because I took her son away (she expected him to live with her forever; I’m the evil English Bitch). I call her Smother 😉 I found out it’s called enmeshment.

    Yep, got to laugh AT them – they’re insane. 😱

    Ps. Powered wheelchairs are great . I’d love one of them!

    Liked by 1 person

    • What’s interesting to me, is that us women (in both his and my family) aren’t overprotected like the boys/men are. No one cares about us, although it may have something to do with decent decision making skills and the ability to care for ourselves 😉

      You should hear what my Dad has to say about my mother in-law. It’s awful. And hilarious. I don’t like the lady much, but he straight up despises her. He has nothing bad to say about hubs other than he’s lazy, but that’s the truth. Manchild is so lucky his in-laws (my parents) love him. His family shows more love for a cow! Although, maybe she was nicer. and quieter. I’m getting more outspoken as I age. 🙂


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