Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Cow.
Cow, who?
Cows don’t say who, cows say moo !
COW 2: OK! OK! Enough of silly jokes. How are you my dear?
COW1: What do you call a grumpy old cow – MOOdy? I am moo-dy. Today I didn’t wake up in a happy mooo-d. It’s just an-udder day.
C2: I am sorry to hear that. How about going out this evening with me.
C1: Sure. Let’s go to the moo-vies.
C2: You know what! While coming here, I saw a woman looking at me and other cows.
She said, “What a cute bunch of cows!”
“Not a bunch, herd“, her friend replied.
“Heard of what?”
“Herd of cows.”
“Of course I’ve heard of cows.”
“No, a cow herd.”
“What do I care what a cow heard. I have no secrets to keep from a cow!”
And to say we animals are considered stupid. It is these humans, who are rightly stuppid.
C1: I know. I know. Are you worried about this Mad Cow Disease that’s going round?
C2: Not really, I am a chicken. But I am worried I may fall sick with hay fever. How is your son, that young calf?
C1: He is doing very well. Thank you. After giving birth, I was de-calfenated. Just the other day I was telling him: “Turn the udder cheek and mooo-ve on. Seize every opportunity and milk it for all its worth! It’s better to be seen and not herd. Honor thy fodder and thy mother and all your udder relatives. Never take any bull from anybody. Always let them know who’s bossy. Stepping on cow pies brings good luck. Black and white is always an appropriate fashion statement. Don’t forget to cow-nt your blessings every day.”
C2: You are an ideal mother to him. Did he try fence jumping?
C1: Yeah. I shudder to say, it was an udder destruction.
C2: It is his learning stage. Never mind. I have brought some bullogna for him. They are his favourite. What has he taken up at school?
C1: Oh! All those boring subjects – Moosic, Psycowlogy, Cowlculus and Thermoodynamics. He uses the cowlculator too.
C2: He is the true progeny of a cow. Now that my favourite holiday – Moo Year Day is nearing, I will take him for an outing.
C1: You know what! Now that he is growing up, he goes out for lunch to the calf-eteria. His room is so messy, I always end up asking him, was he raised in a barn?
C2: Don’t be so hard upon him. He will learn. He is growing up.
C1: Yeah. He wants a car to go out with his friends. He demands a Cattleac!
C2: He has the true bovine class. Keep him pampered.
C1: If I do that, one day he will end up giving spoilt milk. Now he goes after milkshake.
C2: Are you sending him abroad for higher studies:
C1: Yeah, he wishes to go to Cowlifornia. He will be most happy there. He says he will send me instant moo-ssages too. He is good in studies. With time he will get butter and butter. He plays for his favourite band Moody Blues too.
C2: I must say, you are plain lucky. You are simply bovine. Do you have enough money to send him abroad?
C1: No, not really.
C2: I know that farmer is milking you dry. I am waiting for Halloween Day. It’s our Boovine day. I may scare that farmer out of his wits.
C1: Actually I am waiting for Christmas. We will be the Santa Cows.
C2: Earlier I used to read the newspaper The Daily Moos. But now I read the news online. It seems Russians will get milk from Mos-cow. Sweden won’t import cows as it has Stockholm.
C1: I came across the worst. Nietzsche is philosophising: To moo is to be while Sartre says To be is to moo and Sinartra says Moo be moo be moo.
C2: They are crazy, dear. I will be soon going to Hawaii. I can wear my Moo–moos there. I would like to ride in the trains in the cow-boose. I will also go to St. Moo-is, Moo-ssouri and Moo Jersey.
C1: Don’t you forget Moo York. When I die, I wish to spend my afterlife in Moo Moo Land. It is a place of udder delight.
C2: My heaven is on earth. I am in love with Moochael Jachson and dance to his Meat It.
C1: Now, you are my envy dear. Wonder, why I didn’t think of this before. My Moo Moo. He may be History now but his Black & White is for us cows. May his soul rest in peace. Moo Moo.
