Highlander the Cow

“Look, I know I'm just a cow. I do; I know it. I know I don't deserve much. The world has decided I'm not worth the trouble. People don't like to think about who their steak or burger was.” Highland the Cow stopped talking for a moment and blew his bangs up out of his eyes, then glanced up at the camera team expectantly. Highland had agreed to be part of the documentary to talk about his day-to-day life. The reason he accepted was that the documentary maker was an Owl. Owls are well respected. They are intellects and hold symbols in people’s lives. When they're hurt, someone cares for them. When they want to be seen or have something to say, people take notice.

“But then again,” Highland continued, “my mother taught me to follow the rules, to work hard and be the best cow I can be. She expected it of me. Sent me out to start eating grass at a young age, wanting me and my siblings to reach our potential as the best beef cattle we could be. She was a temperamental woman; My mother was a milking cow. But she was sure she knew everything about being respected on the farm, the right way to be. When her milk would run low, she blamed me for the stress I’d caused her. Every year they let me live and passed me over, leaving me behind as the other cattle took the walk of glory. My mother would stiffen and say, “It is okay. Everything will look better in the morning.” Highland stopped and gazed off at the fields.

“It’s okay if it’s too much for you to talk about now. This is good stuff. We can take a break,” said Crook the Owl.

“No, no, I should continue. Don’t want to waste too much of your good animals' time, “ Highland said, ashamed and embarrassed for not meeting their expectations of him. He was always wasting others' time. He was so stupid; why did he keep talking or think anyone should care? He was sure all the other farm animals were laughing at him. No matter how perfect he tried to be, how much like everyone else he acted, they always saw through him. He just did not fit in.

Highlander often felt sad. He would think about running away and starting a new life. He would also think about jumping the fence and walking into the road to be hit by one of the big trucks that pass, ending it all. But in the end, he was a coward. He just kept trying. He kept putting himself out there, hoping to make something of himself. He kept hoping that he would become loveable and meet everyone's expectations of him. The only time he felt calm and not like hiding was when the farmer's children would come down from the big white house on the hill and play with him. But even that was not acceptable. It was not as beef cattle do. The other cows would munch on their grass and look off at him with judgmental stares as he played fetch, chase and snuggles with the children.

“Highlander, are you ready to go on?” asked Crook kindly, but Highlander could see that he was annoyed by the way he kept looking at his watch and sighing loudly. “Never good enough” should be branded on my ass, he thought.

“Anyway...” he started telling his story again. “My Mom and the other cows became convinced something was wrong with me. They decided I should talk to Steel, the old stallion they kept up in the good barn. He had been on this farm for years, and everyone loved him. They thought perhaps he could fix me. We talked for a while. Even got close, he tried to help me see that the expectations others placed on me were not as high as those I put on myself. He said my internal dialogue was too negative, that no one would tell me what I think to myself outright. I mean, I'm just a cow. He thought I should be enjoying life, for what else was there for me to do? But then he died. He broke his foot out prancing one day, and the farmer had to put a bullet in his head. I know it's wrong, but somehow, I felt it was my fault, and he abandoned me. Then my mother sent me to talk to Dan, the Australian shepherd who wanders freely and talks to all the animals. He knows the workings of the farm and the expectations of each animal. It took a while for me to trust Dan. Our sessions were short, and I felt like I had to retell my story and my feelings all over again to someone new. It was a setback. Eventually, Dan told me he didn’t want to treat me anymore as I was strange and never listened to his advice. I felt rejected. I hid in the old grain silo for a long time, well into the night, but then it started to rain. The sound was deafening. I was scared. But then I thought, maybe I’ll die, and then they’ll miss me and realize I was worthwhile. I started to “Moo” a long slow sound of sadness. That’s when the farmer found me. He’d been looking all over. The farmer’s clothes were soaking wet, and he was shivering. He walked right up to me, touched my nose and put his forehead on mine and said, “you frightened us all there, Highlander. I’ll tell you a little secret, boy. We all love you here. I couldn’t imagine not having you around. You don’t act like a cow. But you’re ours, and we love you. The kids are terrified that something has happened to their friend. I wouldn’t want to have to tell them if it did. They sure do love you, Highlander.” I was so surprised. It was the first time in my life that I ever felt valued, like I was worth more than just my meat. Which to a cow, I guess, isn't something you're supposed to look for, but it felt terrific. The farmer calmed me, took me to the good barn, wrapped me in a blanket and let the kids feed me apples and turnips. I'd never felt so loved in my entire life. Now I'm a pet cow on a beef cattle farm. A pet! My mother still seems disappointed, and the other cows still look at me with judgement, but I've found a family and a life that I love. I guess what I'm saying is sometimes it's okay if you don't meet other animals' expectations of you; maybe it's okay to not be like everyone else. Sometimes you are deserving of love even when you feel unloveable.” Highlander smiled at his last words, thinking it was time to return to his warm spot in the barn to eat and sleep in comfort, waiting for the children to return home from school. “How was that?” he asked the Owl.

“Good enough. Your episode should air in the next few weeks. The show is called Real Life Animals of Wisconsin. The reality stuff is just killing it with the ratings these days. The audience loves a good oddball. They like seeing other animals struggle, and the conflict makes them feel better about themselves. A depressed beef cow who does strange things and always finds himself in contention on the farm will kill it with the audience. We might even do a follow-up at the end of the season when the other cattle walk the line of glory, and you're left in the barn to be pet and praised while not full filling your life commitment.”

With that, the crew packed up, and Highlander was left to think about his failure again.