I have not always been afraid of cows. One upon a time, I viewed these massive creatures as a sweet and innocent food source. I never saw them for what they really are- demon possessed beasts that are out to destroy me and all that I hold near and dear.
Years and years ago, back when I was adventurous and did not have children that asked endless questions, I dated a young man. This young man was a sweet thing and only a few years older than me. Together, we made up a sweet, young, and adventurous couple. Like most teens, we had issues when we wanted to be alone. "Your place or mine?" really didn't apply to us. So, we had to get creative.
Driving around one evening, we decided to take a blanket out to the edge of a corn field. Sensing my apprehension, my date promised me that the spot was secluded. "Nothing but you, me, and the cows," he informed me. "It'll be totally private." I happily agreed.
It actually was a romantic spot. I remember it being a cloudless night. There were stars everywhere. I laid in his arms for a good while as we talked about what we wanted out of life. At fifteen, what you want is basically everything. I eventually tired of the conversation; so we started to fool around.
So, here I am, with my adventurous-free-living-self, looking down at my boyfriend and thinking life doesn't get any better than this. Then it hit me, life doesn't get any better than this because I am about to die. Every horror movie that I had ever seen came to mind as I slowly turned around to see what was breathing down the back of my neck.
I screamed bloody murder. I did not give my sweet boyfriend a chance to ask what was wrong. I shot up like a lightening bolt and took off across the corn to the car. I left behind my blanket, my clothes, and my boyfriend.
I haven't liked cows since.