The Cow and the Chicken

 

Dear Alicia,

On a quaint little farm in the middle of nowhere was a cow name George. George was a longhorn who spent most of his day grazing the pasture and chewing his cud.

The pasture was relatively safe, and the weather relatively stable where George lived. George didn't have a care in the world.

George would wake every morning after going to bed every night in the same spot under his favorite tree, and every morning he would make his way down to a small stream to get a drink of water. Life was good for George. Life was easy for George.

One cool fall morning when George went down to the stream to get his drink of water he saw something he had never seen in his pasture before. There was a chicken down by George's drinking spot. George stopped for a moment but didn't give it much thought. After all, George is on a farm, so he continued down to get his drink. 

While George was drinking, the chicken clucked and said, "Hello fellow cow, my name is Herbert!" 

George was a little taken a back. Did this chicken just introduce themselves as a cow? He must have misheard. George politely responded, "Hello Herbert, my name is George. Are you one of the farms chickens? Why are you out of your coop?"

Herbert, visibly irritated, huffed, "Excuse me?! I am a cow! I identify as cow, and I will graze this pasture like my fellow cows! Can you not look at me and see that I am a cow?!"

George, now thoroughly confused states, "Well no Herbert. Looking at you I see a chicken. Cows have hooves and fur. Chickens have feet with toes and feathers. I have for legs, and you have two. I moo and you cluck. I am a mammal and you are a bird. These are just biological truths Herbert."

Herbert, getting more and more frustrated with every word George spoke, responds, "You are an ignorant bigot George. You are denying me MY TRUTH and MY TRUTH is that I AM A COW! It is plain as day really. Biology has nothing to do with it."

George thinks about this for a minute and decides that there is no getting through to Herbert. While George wishes he could make Herbert see that he is making a grave mistake by thinking he is a cow when in fact he is a chicken, George has no authority over the decisions of other animals on the farm. Reluctantly George says, "Well, okay then Herbert, while I don't agree that you are actually a cow, I can see that you believe you are a cow, and I will respect that you have the right to make your own choices in life."

Herbert puffs his feathers and exclaims, "I AM A COW! I DON'T THINK IT, I KNOW IT!"

George, refusing to forgo reality just to appease Herbert decides it might be better to just walk away from the situation. After all, George has enough self respect to not turn in his own morals just to appease another farm animal.

So George walked away from Herbert and had a wonderful day grazing the pasture and chewing his cud under a beautiful blue sky wishing the best for Herbert, hoping that someday poor Herbert would come to his senses and realize that he is actually a chicken.

That night George, still feeling a little sorry for Herbert, decides that maybe he better go offer Herbert some advice before laying in his usual spot under his favorite tree. So George walks the pasture and finds Herbert down by the stream. 

George kindly says, "Herbert, if I may offer you some advice. You may want to go back to the coop with the other chickens before dark..."

"I AM A COW AND I WILL STAY IN THE PASTURE YOU BIGOT!" exclaims Herbert.

"But you don't understand..."

"I understand well enough. You just want me out of the pasture because you don't recognize me as one of your own. You are discriminating against me, and I will have none of it. You can just leave me alone. Good night George!" Herbert responds, turning his back to George.

"But..."

"I said goodnight," Herbert interrupts.

George, feeling defeated, turns around and heads to go to sleep under his favorite tree.

The next morning George wakes up like usually, and heads down to the stream. This morning when George gets to the stream he notices fox prints in the mud, and the looks of a struggle with a small feathered cow. 

Love,

Hubby