Jetta Love

The final days of hunting season were fading to a close, and the cows couldn't be happier. For weeks, they'd had to put up with guns firing into the evening, tripping on dead birds and listening to hunters babble on and on. For their good behavior, they had been promised a Sunday feast by the farmer. The cows were very excited about their feast. They waited and waited until the bright orange sun began to sink into the sky.

"I'm hungry," one cow griped.

"Me too," another whined. They nibbled on grass as they waited. Suddenly, their ears perked up. A grey car approached and parked. Two men got out and took their hunting gear out of the back of the trunk, walking to the middle of the field. The cows watched thoughtfully.

"Did they bring food?" one cow asked.

"No, they're just hunters," another sighed.

"Are they?" one brown cow asked, stretching as long as her thick neck would allow. She sniffed the air thoughtfully. "I smell food."

"Food?" another cow perked up.

"Really?" one cow asked. The brown cow cautiously approached the car, sniffing carefully. The other cows followed lazily along.

"Can't you smell it?" she asked. "It smells like food." The other cows began to sniff at the grey car.

"It does!" one cried happily. "It smells like food!"

"Food?" a black cow perked up. "I like food."

"It is our feast!" the brown cow cried. "The farmer has brought us the feast!"

"That's not the farmer," another cow pointed out, pointing at the two men shooting. "Unless he has split in two."

"Farmers can do that," another cow decided.

"Where is our food?" the black cow asked. "How do we get it out?"

The cows were stumped. They stared hungrily at the hunters. They were starving.

One cow swished her tail angrily at a male who kept making romantic advances. "For the last time, Mack, I don't like you!" she cried angrily. "You smell and have a snotty nose!"

"Come on Charlene, you know I'm cute," the bull pleaded, chasing her around the car. The brown cow's shoulder began to twitch, and he began to itch his back on the car.

"Don't do that!" one of the smaller cows cried. "That's our food!"

"The car's not our food," a older cow admonished him. "The food is in there."

"Really?" a cow asked. He began to nibble on the car and lick the side enthusiastically.

"Bleah!" he spat, shaking his head. "It doesn't taste like food." Nonetheless, he continued to chew and lick on the car. Occasionally, he'd itch his shoulder as well, then continue licking the smooth grey paint. Maybe he could pretend it was food.

One cow began to sniff the trunk as Charlene and Mack continued to run around the car.

"I think the food is in here!" he bellowed. Excited, all the cows descended upon the car, licking their lips and twitching their tails in anticipation. All of the sudden, the two men came running up to them waving their arms and yelling.

"Are they food?" one cow asked hungrily.

"No!" another cow yelled fearfully. "Retreat!" The cows moved approximately five feet as the men inspected the car. The taller man placed his hand in the saliva and made a disgusted noise as it trailed off the car.

"We shall wait here for them to bring the food," the brown cow said haughtily. After all, it was their Sunday feast. They shouldn't have to serve themselves. The cows waited and waited as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The men loaded up the car and climbed inside, shutting the doors. The cows watched in horror as they drove away, not bothering to unload their Sunday feast.

"Food?" the brown cow whispered mournfully.

"We should have eaten the car," another one grumbled.

Suddenly, they saw headlights approaching.

"Food," they all sighed happily in unison.