There are days when, on opening, my morning paper, I have to stop and think “It’s not April Fool’s Day today, is it?”
Today is one such day.
Read this article, and you’ll see the cause of my dilemma :
The urine and dung of foreign cows are impure?
This is shocking, flagrant, outrageous racism against our bovine friends and, as a foreigner myself, I am appalled.
Doubly insulted you could almost say.
Poor Jerseys. Poor Holsteins. Poor Freisians. All that lovely milk, and just look at the gratitude shown.
But now, of course, I have a dilemma.
And I need your advice, dear reader.
Most mornings when I head out to run, I pass lots of cows ambling down the street, heading out of the various “bastis” (slums) that co-exist within our neighbourhood. These cows, many of them painfully thin, wander along chomping happily at the municipal vegetation and, sad to say, at the plastic bags that are strewn everywhere.
Now, I usually eat a banana on the go, and always save the peel and the end bit for which ever cow I meet first. Sometimes I even Instagram the moment. As one does.
#dailycow is the hashtag, in case you are wondering.
Am I now to check on the poor thing’s nationality first?
Admittedly I’m not feeding the cows “as a matter of ritual” as the article puts it, but if I inadvertently feed a scrawny old Jersey cow, I might well be being anti-national.
And how am I to explain my sudden stand-offish-ness-because-you-might-be-a-foreigner to these guys and gals that I meet every morning?