Cows being fed by a farmer. Ho-hum! Why would you even bother with a photograph?
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Well, download the latest version of the Animal Translate App and listen carefully. You're in for a shock. Scary. Life-changing.
That cow on the far right who seems to be looking at you no matter from which angle you're viewing. She's been having a real whinge. About the weather, the state of the world and the quality of the hay. "Not fit for a dog," she grumped a moment ago. Some of the other cows thought that funny but one of them-I couldn't exactly pinpoint who- called out, "Just give it a rest Daisy and let someone else have breakfast".
That's how I discovered Daisy's name.
She turned around and let fly with language I would never have imagined coming from a cow. Even the f-word. Then, an amazing thing happened. The other cows all started mooing, very gently, wonderfully harmonious. Instantly, a trance-like calm settled over the group, broken only by Daisy's sobbed apology for what she termed her "wanton behaviour". Wow, I thought, they're onto something here. Could we humans try that? Just imagine Putin, Zelensky and Biden sitting around a table holding hands, gently mooing and admitting their wrongdoings? Could UN sessions begin with a minute or two of reflective mooing?
Of course there'd be naysayers, but why not give it a go? Not much else is working well these days.
As the calm gradually lifted and the chatter resumed, one of the cows, just out of view on the left, asked, "Why do they feed us like this anyway?"
"They have a duty of care," someone at the back replied.
"But," persisted the questioner, "there's so much grass after all that rain-"
"Rain! I'm sick of it, absolutely sick of it," Daisy snapped.
"Do you mind if I finish?" the questioner responded irritably.
There was an uneasy pause before Daisy replied, "Sure. Sorry, Janice".
Janice cleared her throat, waited until all eyes were on her, then said, "We don't really know what's in that hay, do we? And why do they go to such trouble and expense, especially with the current supply-chain problems? What's in it for them?"
Nodding towards the young woman feeding them Janice added, "They see us as dumb animals who know nothing about growth hormones and antibiotics and sedatives. It's time we pushed back!"
A cry of "Yeah, Janice. Go!" ran around the group. Janice asked, "Who's heard the story of Animal Farm?"
"I don't think it ended particularly well," said Daisy, shaking her head.
"Noble ideas are often sullied by selfish behaviour," Janice responded, almost haughtily. "Does that mean we just give up?"
"What do you suggest then?" someone asked.
"We demand scientific analysis of what actually goes into our food. After all, we're vegans. Not flexitarians, certainly not pescatarians! A-C-E-G, all cows eat grass. That's how they," she nodded angrily towards the young farmer, "learn music."
Janice took a deep breath, looked at the others and asked, "What else?"
"We want international travel," called a young-sounding voice off to the right.
"Who was that?" asked Janice.
"Me. Ivy," came the cheery reply. "I've heard that many of the bullocks are going to Indonesia. Lucky things, I've always wanted to see the pyramids."
"They're in Egypt, dumbo," someone else laughed.
Sounding very serious Janice said, "Travel has many risks, Ivy. Think carefully."
"Still," Ivy began but Daisy interrupted. "Be careful what you wish for, Ivy. I beg you. I beg you all." Daisy then told the story of her uncles, seven of them, who had gone to the Middle East. They were so excited to be seeing the world by ship. Not a single one ever returned.
"But sea travel is so much safer now, Aunty Daise," Ivy protested.
"It's not just about safety," said Daisy. "It's also about climate change. Especially because that lot"-she gestured towards the young woman sweeping the last of the hay off the truck-"now blame us for global warming."
"What?" came an incredulous cry from the group. Daisy turned to one of the cows near her. "Tell them, Monique."
"Well," Monique began, "the International Panel of Experts claims that bovine-generated methane gas extrusion is an important contributing element in a range of natural and anthropomorphic factors-"
"Plain-cow, please!" someone demanded.
"Sorry," Monique blushed, then said awkwardly, "they say we, um, fart too much."
"Hypocrisy, sheer hypocrisy," Janice exclaimed, shaking her head. "They're the ones ruining the planet, yet we get the blame. They want us to change our ways only because they won't change theirs."
"Well I, for one, am not giving up farting," came a deep, mellifluous comment. The cows all turned and stared. There, in a small yard close by, stood as well built and well-groomed a bull as any of them was ever likely to see.
"Hercules!" Daisy exclaimed with pleasure, "when did you get back?"
"Late last night. Worn out. I'm here to rest." Hercules' tone was smug and self-satisfied.
Daisy sniffled and blinked away the tears she hoped the others would not see. Most who encountered Hercules saw only his physique and outsized ego. Yet he was the gentlest and most solicitous lover Daisy had ever encountered. When their first-born calf had died, from snakebite, Hercules's grief was unbounded.
"Tell us Herc," Janice asked bluntly, "how we can get humans to come to their senses?"
"If they will not take responsibility for the perils of climate change and overpopulation I will my own self step forward into the breech," Hercules replied pompously. "I do not ask what the planet can do for me. I ask what I can do for the planet. And so, from this day forth, I take a vow of celibacy."
Daisy and Janice stared in disbelief, though an excited buzz ran around the group. "Awesome!" someone called out.
"What's celibacy?" Ivy asked.
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