Cow

Oksona begins eating soon after she falls asleep. She begins chewing. Every so often a swallow then more chews. We've just made love so I'm left wide awake. I like this time. She falls asleep right away leaving me some time finally after a long day where i can think. I like to be alone like this. The lightening strikes light up the room showing her lips pursed before she swallows again in the dark. More often than not i don't really think at this time. Just sort of be. Watch the night move on. Listen to the freeway outside the window. Watch for the shadows of cats as they go about their nocturnal missives. Partly out of humor, partly interest, I lean over to ask her what she's eating. Sometimes she answers. Sometimes I even understand her. Last night I was lucky, when I asked her she replied clear as day. »Pie.« That just tickles me. Sometimes I feel really left out and lonely. When we were first married I felt an obligation to make love to her every night and this vacant space afterward with her chewing away beside me. I’d debate myself till dawn came on the merits of satisfying her versus getting some sleep myself. Seems I can't ever seem to sleep after sex. Don't know why, just can't. And sex just isn't as important to me as it is to her. She talks about the spiritual union we achieve, the religious intensity of it when it's good. To me it's an itch to be scratched. An itch that takes a lot of energy to scratch. Leaves me exhausted most the time. But strangely, wide awake.

Two cows are grazing on their farmers field next to each other. Says one cow, »Hey, what do you think about mad cow disease?« Replies the other, »Why the hell would I care? I'm a tractor.«

There was a farmer who had a brown cow and a white cow and he wanted to get them bred, so borrowed his
neighbor's bull and turned it loose in the pasture. He told his son to watch and come in and tell him when the bull
was finished.
»Yeah daddy, yeah daddy,« said the little boy.
After a while the boy came into the living where his father was talking with some friends. »Say, Pop,« said the boy.
»Yes,« replied his father. »The bull just fucked the brown cow.«
There was a sudden lull in the conversation. The father said »Excuse me« and took his son outside. »Son, you mustn't use language like that in front of company. You should say 'The bull surprised the brown cow'. Now go and watch and tell me when the bull surprises the white cow.«
The father went back inside the house. After a while the boy came in and said, »Hey, Daddy.«
»Yes, son. Did the bull surprise the white cow?«
»He sure did, Pop! He fucked the brown cow again!«

Don't know about »cow« but a bull once attacked me in a field during a school outward bound course.
I always hated outward bound ... cold, wet, uncomfortable – I'd rather be curled up with a book.
Walking through a field of large white-and-black beasts, however quietly chewing, was not my idea of a good way to spend an afternoon.
When the bull started running from the other end of the field my classmates and I found a turn of speed I would never have realised I could achieve.
So I suppose I got something out of that encounter. I've always been much better at the sprint than any other sporting event.

So, I've heard that cows are very curious animals. They sometimes get into trouble by climbing stairs. They also eat the rubber parts of tractors, and I've heard that they can lean their way through a barbed-wire fence.

I don't know but that I've never seen a purple cow.