Afraid to be Cowed

By Jim Hagarty
1995

This week, in our continuing feature, This World of Science, we look at yet another new development involving cows. You’ll remember, only recently, our in-depth study of the efforts by environmental scientists to get cows to emit less methane gas and thereby save the planet. Now comes the news that another group of scientists is working on a way to get cows to emit something more productive.

Yes, it’s true. “Experts” say it’s possible the cow could someday be used to incubate human embryos, freeing up women from the drudgery of morning sickness, mood swings and labour pains.

(Before we proceed, it must be asked why scientists are so fond of experimenting on cows. Could it be because they are more docile and easier to work on than, let’s say, alligators or wolverines? When are they going to start poking around on the insides of grizzly bears?)

In any case, if they can work out “species compatibility” in the labs, you can bet your milking stool some big-eyed Holsteins will be delivering bouncing babies before too long. But, as usual, scientists continue to explore only what is possible without giving much thought to the consequences of their discoveries.

Fortunately, Lifetime Sentences has given this matter serious consideration And is ready with some probing questions of the geniuses who would have us spending our first nine months of development in the barn instead of the house.

Here are some of the important issues we should all be trying to answer as we sail blithely along on the wave of yet another new technology.

  1. When it’s “time”, do we pile the cow in the car or truck and rush off or if there’s no vehicle around, can we simply ride the animal to the hospital?

  2. As a matter of fact, do we go to the hospital at all or do we head for the vet clinic?

  3. Does the father wear a cap and gown into the delivery room or overalls and rubber boots?

  4. Do we feed the newborn baby pablum or fresh hay?

  5. What do we do, as the child grows up, if it just wants to lie under shade trees on hot summer days and chew gum?

  6. Do we hang a pretty necklace and locket around the child’s neck, or a bell?

  7. Do we sew the child’s name inside his pants or affix a metal tag to his ear?

  8. Should we even mention branding time?

  9. When the child starts school, should we ban after-class visits to the fridge or to the silo?

  10. What happens, when they get to be teenagers, if their first love lives, not down the street, but on a farm outside of town?

  11. What if their table manners resemble grazing more than they do fine dining?

  12. And if we have, by the same manner, a large family, how do we gather them up for church? Do we rope them, herd them into the car or drive them up a ramp into a truck?

  13. If their major skills end up being jumping fences and butting heads, do we try to teach them piano anyway or go with the flow and let them be football players and professional wrestlers?

  14. Will we still be able to use the age-old putdown, “Were you born in a barn?” or might some people start answering, “As a matter of fact, I was.”?

  15. And the most important question of all is this: what the heck do we do if they moo?

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.