I am a cow, and I like being a cow. The life of a cow is a free life in the land where I live.
You may disagree with me when I say this, and you may well argue that I am a kept animal. You may well argue that I am a kept animal; that my masters feed me; that they shepard me around, give me water, milk me and manage my schedule.
But, here’s the nub, you see. I am free. I am absolutely free. There are many of my species in other countries who are not free. Sure, they get better food than I do, breathe better air, and generally produce more milk than I do. Yet, my fellow beasts from other countries end up being killed. They end up in slaughter houses, at the butcher’s shop, in a factory and even on TV shows!
Now, look at me. I live in a hot country, and I am fine with this.
My masters do not give me great food, and I refuse to give great quantities of milk. Come on, why should i?
Now, if you follow me closely, it starts to get more and more interesting. Read on.
I live in a country where men and women clearly don’t have brains, and have very poor knowledge of biology and reproductive systems. They call me mother, and there are even some who say that I should be called “The National Mother”. What idiots!
I am free to walk as I will. You see, the human species of my country is not allowed to harm me, or kill me. The deluded souls believe that, to do so, would invite eternal damnation. Tell you what – it sure suits me!
So, I walk where I will, and we all giggle to our heart’s content when we see people in their mobile machines swerve out of the way. Sometimes, just to spite them, I plonk myself on the road. Why not, I ask you? After all, once upon a time, it was all grassy land that they have taken away from me.
There are those who put me into their houses, where I can shit in peace. If they don’t like the smell, tough luck.
Finally, and how forgetful of me, when I walk on the street, my ‘master’ follows me where I go. I walk, I wiggle my bum, and the poor sod follows.
So, kind readers, please answer the question that I ask you – am I free, or are you?