For the love of god! It seems I might of been right about the cow uprising after all...check out these further examples of bovine field rage. Seems I had a lucky escape!
Cow vs Car
Cow vs The Elderly
Cow Induced Coma
"I shouted for help and shouted at the cow, but it was unrelenting"
I'll never feel bad about eating burgers again...
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
When Cows Attack
Hello there...welcome to Muppeta's world!
We'll begin with a mirthful tale of mardy farm animals. Whilst out walking yesterday in the wonderfully dramatic Leicestershire countryside (and by wonderfully dramatic I mean prosaically pastoral), my boyfriend and I began meandering across a field that had a smattering of adolescent bovines in the far corner. Nothing remarkable in that - indeed, we had passed through two almost identically populated fields only minutes previously...but there was something different about these particular herbivorous ruminants. Maybe they were just bored - being a cow can't be the most action-packed existence on earth - maybe it was just the bovine equivalent of teenage angst, or maybe they were just plain nails, who knows, but what began as a seemingly harmless inquisitive look in our direction soon became, well, frankly bordering on terrifying. I don't know if you've ever seen a herd of 12 cows start to run at you, but take it from me, it's at once hilarious and bleeding scary.
I don't think my brain knew at all how to cope with this bizarre turn of events - the ringleader of these ASBO worthy quadrupeds (I know, I'm running out of cow analogies now) was heading straight for me at quite a pace, yet all I could think was 'but it's a cow for Christs' sake!' 'Yes - a cow - heavy and hoofy - run like f*ck!' Is what I should have been thinking. Fortunately, my boyfriend had the presence of mind to give the cows a taste of their own medicine, and advanced menacingly on the cows with his best Manc swagger...and then we both ran like f*ck from whence we came, over the stile and in to the safety of the neighbouring field (also full of cows, but the benign, friendly kind - thank god). By the time we had crossed that field, I had just about stopped laughing at our cow-related near mishap, and the sinister f*ckers were still staring at us, bunched around the stile over which we had made our hasty retreat.
I like to think that maybe they just thought we were bringing them food (even though cows eat grass...I think) and didn't really mean us any harm - but then I remember the icy expression behind those long, unblinking eyelashes; cold and confrontational - and wonder if maybe it's the start of some kind of sinister cow uprising. Either way, if you learn one thing today, make it this - cows: they're not clever, but they are quite big - and I reckon a misplaced hoof could do a lot of damage. Respect our beef giving countryside compatriots, and give them as wide a berth as possible.
We'll begin with a mirthful tale of mardy farm animals. Whilst out walking yesterday in the wonderfully dramatic Leicestershire countryside (and by wonderfully dramatic I mean prosaically pastoral), my boyfriend and I began meandering across a field that had a smattering of adolescent bovines in the far corner. Nothing remarkable in that - indeed, we had passed through two almost identically populated fields only minutes previously...but there was something different about these particular herbivorous ruminants. Maybe they were just bored - being a cow can't be the most action-packed existence on earth - maybe it was just the bovine equivalent of teenage angst, or maybe they were just plain nails, who knows, but what began as a seemingly harmless inquisitive look in our direction soon became, well, frankly bordering on terrifying. I don't know if you've ever seen a herd of 12 cows start to run at you, but take it from me, it's at once hilarious and bleeding scary.
I don't think my brain knew at all how to cope with this bizarre turn of events - the ringleader of these ASBO worthy quadrupeds (I know, I'm running out of cow analogies now) was heading straight for me at quite a pace, yet all I could think was 'but it's a cow for Christs' sake!' 'Yes - a cow - heavy and hoofy - run like f*ck!' Is what I should have been thinking. Fortunately, my boyfriend had the presence of mind to give the cows a taste of their own medicine, and advanced menacingly on the cows with his best Manc swagger...and then we both ran like f*ck from whence we came, over the stile and in to the safety of the neighbouring field (also full of cows, but the benign, friendly kind - thank god). By the time we had crossed that field, I had just about stopped laughing at our cow-related near mishap, and the sinister f*ckers were still staring at us, bunched around the stile over which we had made our hasty retreat.
I like to think that maybe they just thought we were bringing them food (even though cows eat grass...I think) and didn't really mean us any harm - but then I remember the icy expression behind those long, unblinking eyelashes; cold and confrontational - and wonder if maybe it's the start of some kind of sinister cow uprising. Either way, if you learn one thing today, make it this - cows: they're not clever, but they are quite big - and I reckon a misplaced hoof could do a lot of damage. Respect our beef giving countryside compatriots, and give them as wide a berth as possible.
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