Holy Cow

18 INDIA

Over and over in my mind, I turn the word over and over: India. India. Like a jewel you might turn in your pocket. India India. I grew distant with this knowledge, distant from the other animals. I became fixated on the house and more secrets I might learn inside it. I learned what signs to look for when the family was going to be away for a while-the suitcases stacked in the car, etc.-and then I would go down to the house and continue my research. I found out so many things. I found children’s books where animals were beloved and even heroes. Even cows. Cows were heroic to the children in these books. A cow even jumped over the moon in one. Admittedly, it got unbelievable by the end and totally lost me when the dish ran away with the spoon (I mean, come on), but still, that was one bad cow.

I was confused at how people could mistreat and eat us on the one hand and then celebrate us on the other for qualities they admired. It was then I realized that humans were very complicated and confused and I could spend the rest of my life puzzling them out. I decided I didn’t have time to do that. I would spend the few years I had left on this planet trying to figure myself out, trying to figure out the mind of the cow, and if there was any time left over, then maybe, maybe, I’d think about humans again.

I found other books with maps and charts that showed every part of the world, showed me where this magical land of India was. It truly existed, this place where the people had wised up and realized that we cows were gods too. There were so many other lands and countries, more than I could memorize. I thought about how lucky those cows were that were born in India and got to spend their lives there. And then I thought: Why not me? I thought: WHY CAN’T I GO TO INDIA?