Tuesday, 14 April 2020

Cattle Courtship


I was on a train the other day returning from London and I saw some cows. Not on the train... they don't let them on. Although if they bought tickets then why not? But anyway, they were in the fields as the train sped by and it got me thinking about cattle. Every field we went past had cows all doing the same thing. It seems like there are  plenty of cows in the country and, for that matter, bulls too. So clearly they are a very successful species. So, as I stared through the window I got to thinking about how it works with cattle courtship.

A bull approaches a cow, a bit tentatively, hoping his 'A' game is going to swing it.
Seen you around here a few times. You live locally?”
“Oh... um... yes. In that field just there.”
“Uh... okay, cool. S’alright round here, innit?”
The cow stares around for a moment and then says, “S’okay.”
The bull pauses, not sure of his next chat up line, then says, “You get out much?”
The cow’s eyes widen. “Out? I’m out all the bloody time.”
The bull feels that his line of patter isn’t cutting it so goes straight to the question he has been wanting to ask. “So, you... uh... fancy going out sometime? I mean out out... not just out like you said, all the time. I mean... out.”
The cow turns to the bull and says, “Out out? What’s that? Is that different from out? What you trying to say?”
The bull shuffles his hooves and tries to gain a bit of composure. He had a feeling this might be difficult. “Uh... I mean out... like you and me... for, I dunno... dinner maybe?”
The cow raises her head and stares at the bull. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, dinner,” the bull replies. “What d’you like to eat?”
The cow laughs. “What do I like eat? What d’you think?”
The bull is taken aback but tries not to show it. “Well... I dunno... grass, I s’pose. I just thought –”
“Yup, spot on Billy Big Bullocks. Grass. Yeah, so I’m out to dinner all the bloody time.”
The bull feels he’s losing face and tries to rally. “I just thought... maybe you and me could... you know, go somewhere different and have dinner.”
The cow smiles. “Somewhere different? Like where? A different field? And have more grass. It’s not as if we can sod off to South America and try some Pampas grass  or maybe get a flight to North America and dine on Kentucky Blue. I fancy a bit of swamp grass to be honest but that ain’t ever gonna happen is it? Maybe even a bit of Bermuda grass but unless you’re gonna tell me you got your own private jet then I’m stuck with this bloody meadow stuff, ain’t I? So why not cut the bullshit and if you want a shag come right out and say so!”
The bull takes a step back. “Uh, what about a takeaway?”

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