Cow tales: Story of Bonzy

Cows make the best pets, an unconventional notion, but one that rings profoundly true. Their noble disposition, gentle giants with a touch of majesty yet grounded humility, they are simply the best companions, if you can overlook their enormous size.

Allow me to introduce you to a chapter from my childhood, a tale of adventure, laughter, and bittersweet moments. My parents, bless their hearts, had their hands full with eight vibrant children. We exuded enthusiasm, radiating excitement with every new discovery, making it a challenge for our parents to keep pace.

Meet my second youngest sister, Bubu, a comedy virtuoso with an uncanny knack for humor. She had an unquenchable passion for cows, a love that transformed our routine into a joyful chore. We embarked on regular trips to the farm, satisfying her insatiable thirst for cow-gazing. The journey was no small feat; there were no accessible roads, and, as she was just two years old, someone had to carry her through the trek. Eventually, our parents decided to do the right thing and gifted her a calf.

This, of course, necessitated the construction of a shelter, a task that consumed my father's sweat and toil for three to four days as we awaited the drying of the cemented flooring. The anticipation of having a cow at home was palpable. Smiles adorned our faces, and our schoolyard boasts about our new family member were almost overbearing. We'd rush home from school, ensuring our beloved cow, lovingly named Bonzy, was safe in his shed.

Feeding Bonzy leaves and feeling the texture of his rough tongue provided unique experiences that never failed to elicit giggles. Our shared bond with him deepened day by day.

Bonzy was unlike any other cow. He possessed an air of poshness and a discerning palate. He relished black salt cakes and dined exclusively on the lushest and tenderest grasses; a desire that frequently proved elusive to fulfill. Finding the right fodder for him became a daily challenge due to his voracious, picky appetite. We took turns brushing his luxurious fur coat and tending to his needs, including filling his plate with leaves. He'd moo when he needed more food, a signal we all understood.

The bond with Bonzy was unbreakable, filling our hearts with boundless joy and wonder. As Bonzy rapidly grew to nearly 400 kilograms, our affection for him only deepened. There were nights when our father took us to the shed to witness Bonzy's ruminating process. It might seem ordinary to some, but to us, it was a source of profound fascination and enlightenment.

However, I must clarify that our community has a strong carnivorous tradition, including our parents, for whom meat is a staple. The looming fear of losing Bonzy to a Christmas or New Year celebration was a constant shadow.

Then came that fateful winter morning during the break, marked by a commotion outside. People were standing in line, laughing and chatting, some leaving with black polybags and satisfied expressions. My heart sank. I instantly knew what was happening. I rushed back, tears in my eyes, to wake my sleeping siblings and share the heart-wrenching news.

From that day forward, we never spoke of Bonzy. We didn't acquire another cow, and we abstained from consuming beef out of tribute and respect for our dear Bonzy. His loss during my childhood was one of the few tragedies that shattered our innocence, a stark reminder of life's unpredictability. I hold no blame toward my parents; they made their choices, and we, in our own way, mourned the loss of our beloved cow.

I cherish the moments we shared—watching Bonzy eat blades of grass, mooing in contentment, and wagging his tail in happiness. This experience taught us the importance of cherishing the present, living each day to the fullest, and leaving no room for regrets. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, and all we truly have are the todays.

In the end, Bonzy left an indelible mark on our hearts, a reminder of the love we shared and the preciousness of every moment.