Holy Cow

36 TURKEY IN, TURKEY OUT

At the moment our wheels touched down, Shalom finally fell asleep from all the pills he’d taken. Good timing. Tom and I had to prop him up between us as we left the plane. Tom hesitated at the open cockpit, looking longingly at the complicated controls and lights like he didn’t wanna leave. He kept spit-polishing those cheap little wings he’d been given.

We breezed through immigration (go figure), but it took us about twenty-five minutes just to walk through the concourse to get near the outside of the airport. It was daunting and strange to hear humans speaking human, but a different human from what I was used to. They were speaking Turkish, and it was exhilarating, but also a little scary. I couldn’t understand a word. I certainly didn’t know where to go. Tom had been silent the whole time, and Shalom had fallen asleep and was lying on the floor, snoring and drooling. We weren’t going anywhere until he came to and joined the living again.

I went off to see if I could find some coffee. I’d heard Turkish coffee was the best and strongest in the world. How do I take my coffee? Well, the milk looks tempting, but you people pasteurize it and that takes out all the flavor. And what’s with this low-fat and 2 percent crap? The fat in the milk is what we live for. You humans are funny, constantly thinking about eating and trying to look like you never eat at the same time.

The Turkish coffee was exactly as advertised. After a few laps with my tongue, I felt like I could sprint for miles and pee for hours. In fact, the call of the cow patty was being whispered to me in Turkish by the magic bean. I had to find somewhere to go. I was aware you humans just don’t poop anywhere, and when in Rome, poop as the Romans do, even if the Romans are Turkish, right? I got back to Tom and Shalom. Silent since we’d disembarked the plane, Tom was still staring off into space, head in the clouds. I opened up Shalom’s mouth and poured a full cup of Turkish java down his throat. His eyes opened and spun around in his head like a one-armed bandit, landing on triple cherries. He jumped off the floor and screamed, “We’re back!” I told Tom I had to get outdoors to relieve myself. He snapped out of his daydream, smiled, and said, “I know just the place.” He fluttered up, we followed.