I was reading the news earlier today and came across this article. Apparently a cow escaped from a slaughterhouse in Jamaica, Queens yesterday and took to the streets. The ASPCA caught her and named her Molly, and she's moved to a permanent home at a sanctuary called The Farrm-- and apparently already has a potential suitor.
There are so many reasons to love this story. What a spunky little cow! She really took matters into her own hands... or hooves, if you will. Go get 'em, girl! And it has such a happy ending.
When I read this, I was reminded of a moment when I was in fourth grade. We lived just outside of Minneapolis, and one day riding the bus home through from school through a very typical suburban area, we saw flashing cop cars and police officers gingerly sneaking around one side of a house. Something big was definitely up.
Then we saw what it was: around the other side of the house came a huge bull, trotting away into an adjacent yard. Apparently he fell off a truck on a nearby highway and went on a running spree for several hours.
It's still pretty funny to me, but to a nine year old, it was the most hilarious thing I'd ever seen. The police officers' caution on one side of the house and the bull happily traipsing away in a setting so foreign just ruined me. I laughed for hours afterwards. What's particularly funny to me now is taking that crazy scenario out of Minneapolis and popping it into Queens. The Human Male (who knows Jamaica well) cracked up when I told him, which makes me think that it had to be even more surreal than I'm thinking.
Congratulations, Molly! May you have a long and happy life down on The Farrm.