Till The Cows Come Home

There’s something oddly feminine about a cow.

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Maybe its the gentle eyes, with their long lashes, or the delicate placement of each hoof on the ground, or perhaps the soft blowing of her breath as she investigates your hands. Despite her size, sometimes she’s just such a lady.

And yet at exactly the same moment, she’s seven hundred kilos of bellowing, farting and crapping. Continue reading

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