Bovinophiliac

I am fond of cows. Holsteins, more specifically. I am always searching for the perfect cow, like the ones depicted on marketing material, with the perfect ratio of black to white and the perfect balance of artfully patterned repartition. Most people seem slightly baffled by my affection for cows. Usually, we tend to like animals that share some of our characteristics or that have qualities we aspire to have. I have some of those, too, but the cow is something else to me.

Cows represent society's castaways, the overlooked, the shunned. It's sympathy that draws me to them. Yes, cows are probably pretty dumb. They're also very docile and placid. A cow is like the village idiot. Most people make fun of him, think nothing of cruelty done to him, but a few will side with him and try to protect him. That's me. When I first heard of cow tipping, I was absolutely horrified. Twice horrified. First, that someone had conceived this idea as being an amusing pastime, secondly, that most of those with enough sense to not attempt it still found it an amusing idea. Fortunately, I now know that cow tipping is quite nearly impossible, at least for the age group most susceptible to be interested in the concept. Leave the cows in peace or this bovinophiliac will get on your case!

As a joke, my mom bought me, many years ago, a "cow mug." I've been looking all over the internet to find one so I could show you a picture but alas (or fortunately), such artistic unicity was not mass replicated. I will therefore endeavor to describe it to you. Imagine a large white mug of conventional shape. On it, a picture of a Holstein cow lounging on some luxuriant patch of verdure. The cow looks happy. Or at least, as happy as a cow could ever look. Well, ok, it looks like it's just chillin'. But that's a bovine synonym for happiness I'm sure. On the other side is another copy of the same image. Not so bad so far, right? But wait. The handle. The handle is a flat panel depicting the profile of a Holstein. Its legs connect it to the mug. Overall, the thing is absolutely hideous. It's utterly kitschy. So kitschy in fact, that I wouldn't be surprised if it made the lawn dwarves cry and the pink flamingos blush red in shame.

I love that mug. I forgot it in Gander and now I've been almost two years without it. Every time I make myself coffee, I think of my cow mug. I miss it. It always made me smile to see it. A daily reminder, with my morning coffee, that the most fortunate of society should be grateful for what they have and compassionately tolerant of those not so fortunate. What better way to start the day?