Adrian Pearson - Cow Country

“See! And besides, the history of our world is too well-documented. It has been covered by researchers since the beginning of time — or at least since these researchers have been receiving tenure. So, no, I will not tell you about the history of the world. Instead I will tell you the story that only I can tell. Settle comfortably into your respective chairs and let me tell you the history that each of you shares. It is a story worthy of the greatest history books yet one that will likely never be told. Yes, my friends who drove all the way from Cow Eye Junction just to visit me in my time of greatest need. It has been a long drive, I’m sure. So let me make it worth your while. My dear friends and respected colleagues — Bessie, Raul, Charlie — let me tell you the little-known story that would not otherwise be told: the long and storied history of Cow Eye Community College…!”

*

“…But first give me a napkin will, you?”

Raul handed Will a napkin so he could wipe away some drool that was dangling from his lower lip.

“This isn’t going to be easy. My mind is a bit numb from all that’s come before. The occlusion. The long ride in the ambulance. The medication. It’s not going to be easy to tell you this in a coherent manner. But I am prepared to perish in the attempt…!”

Will crumpled up the napkin and tucked it under the lip of his dessert plate. And with that he began to tell his story. As the afternoon sun continued its descent beyond the salad bar, Will Smithcoate began to tell us the long and complicated story of Cow Eye Community College.

“The history of Cow Eye Community College,” he explained, “begins ten thousand years ago with two fertile cows: one that was red with horns, and another that was hornless and black….”

“Cattle?”

“Yes. Our history begins with those two cows….”

*

“Once upon a time, there was a man who had two cows: one that was red with horns and another that was hornless and black….”

Here Will stopped.

“Hah!” he laughed. “ Once upon a time ! I’ve always dreamed of beginning a historical treatise with those words. And now I finally have…!”

“How does it feel?”

“It feels great!”

Will nodded in satisfaction. Then he said:

“Where was I?”

“You were home. It is day. There was a man with two cows ten thousand years ago….”

“Oh, right. The man with two cows….”

Will cleared his throat throatily. Then he continued:

“Once upon a time, you see, there was a man who had two cows: one that was red with horns and another that was polled and black….”

*

“This was in the early days of the world when color itself was a thing to be reckoned with. When the earth was wide and the animals of the plains roamed at their discretion. Back then there were animals that were unfathomable to us today. There were bears with broad shoulders and giraffes with short necks. There were oxen the size of Oldsmobiles and birds that were taller than your average educational administrator. These were the days when man was man and the animals were themselves. And amid this all was an ambitious agrarian who became the first domesticator of cattle….”

“….Now before I continue we should stop to dwell a bit on this accomplishment. You see, in those days it was no given that the bovine would be our domesticate. In those days the precursor of the compliant bovine was several times its current size. As big as a trumpeting elephant. As vigorous as your average math instructor. The cows of those days were wild and wayward and they were not of a mind to be domesticated. And in this context this one man noticed two cows grazing on a hillside: one that was red with horns and another that was black and polled….”

“….Now the man saw the two cows and one day he cornered them into a pen of his own design. They were both wild and unpredictable. But locked in the man’s pen, they took divergent approaches to their fates. The first cow — the black one — chose conciliation. It was temperate and amenable. It stayed within the fences that the man had made and caused no trouble. Over the years the black cow multiplied prolifically and became the black cow that you see today. The black cows that you passed by on your voyage to the now-defunct Cow Eye Ranch and whose little black calf you castrated with a simple pocket knife….”

“….Now the red cow, on the other hand, well that was a different story. The red cow, you see, chose conflict. At every turn he rammed his horns against the cowherd’s fence. He smashed the gate that had been constructed to contain him. He jumped and bashed and ground against the barriers that were meant to keep him in. When the man came he charged. And when the black cow approached he butted and lunged. He gouged. He gored. And one day when the man wasn’t looking the red cow smashed through the fence and ran back up to the hillside where he’d come from….”

*

“….At this the farmer was discouraged. For where he had once had two cows he now had only one. But not to be denied, he immediately began to breed the black cow to itself. In time the black cow produced its own offspring, which were other black cows — both male and female — and in time these too were bred. Over time the black cows lost their memories of once having horns or a hillside with freedom, and over time they acquired the thick legs and meaty flanks that would become the hallmark of the breed. The cowherd, looking at this, was pleased. This, he understood, was progress….”

“….Over many centuries the ambitious cowherd discovered countless other efficiencies that enabled him to improve the breed. He bred his tamest bulls to his tamest heifers and this produced tame offspring. He bred his meatiest bulls to his meatiest cows and this produced meaty calves. Over time he bred for weight and size and temperament. He bred for the quantity of milk and for the quality of meat. He bred for fertility and motility and docility. He bred to increase the marbling and to decrease the miscarrying. In time he had perfected the breed to the extent that it gave more milk and produced more meat and was more tolerant and more loving and more hearty. And this too he understood as progress….”

“….And meanwhile the red cow gazed down on all of this from the hillside. Over time the red cow watched as the black breed became bigger and meatier and more numerous. The red cow, scrounging for food on the hillside, lived imperfectly. His conditions were less precise, and yet he watched as the black cow received food easily in troughs and buckets. The red cow grew only slightly from generation to generation, while the black cow gained mightily over time. In size and numbers. In the affections of its master. And through the years the red cow continued to graze on the sparse natural grasses of the hill that looked down on it all….”

“…One day the cowherd gathered up his best black cows — his biggest and his darkest — and herded them onto a large boat that took them across a wide sea in the middle of winter. The ocean was rough and the cows lay on the shipboard, sloshing through the excrement and the vomit of a long ocean voyage. For several months the cows rode in the dark holds of the ship, chained to the floor, motionless, abandoned by their gods and consigned to their fates. It was not an easy journey but at last they arrived in a new land where they disembarked, their legs emaciated and so weak that they could barely walk down the gangplank to the raw land that would be their home. Eventually, they came before their new master and this new master checked their tongues and prodded their flanks and when this was done he brought them to a place many miles away where they could graze, a pasture with green grasses and free-flowing rivers. A place of countryside so verdant that even poetry struggled to describe it. This, my friends, was the beginnings of the Cow Eye Ranch….”