When the Pebbles Embraced the Cow

A cow lay down in a deep bed of pebbles. The pebbles embraced her. They relaxed where they needed to relax, firmed up as required, and made a sound like a sigh. Pebbles always make a sound like a sigh simply from friction, but this time it really was a sigh, deep from their chest.

The pebbles were delighted and astonished. They had never held a cow before. No hammering boots, no greasy talons, no dirty little hands throwing them everywhere. Just soft but firm flesh, with curves like a Henry Moore sculpture.

"Oh my oh my!" said the pebbles. "For the first time in my life I feel like I have an actual body, not just a bunch of dots. All my pebbles are one, they flow and run, and every pebble is connected. I feel like I could stand up and walk around, if I wanted to. The idea of me walking around as a separate entity is somewhat disturbing, so I will just not think about that. I will simply enjoy this long moment of sensuality."

The cow was equally surprised. She had never lain in pebbles before. Such a profound slushiness and yet so supportive. Each udder had it's own personal snug little bed. She wiggled her haunches and sank down in contentment.

"Holy damnation!" said the cow. "For the first time in my life I feel like I don't have a body. My flesh and bones and guts and all they contain have turned to air! No, something less than air, something out of which no wind could be made, a substance that is still a substance but that could hold no smoke or odors, and I am here and there and everywhere, and yet most definitely physically held by the pebbles, a weight with no weight. This is indescribable, and maybe kind of creepy if I think about it too much. No, I need to think about it. No! Yes! It's not creepy at all! It's wonderful!!!!!"

They lay together for a few hours. Every now and then, the cow got up, took a few bites of grass, and lay back down in the pebbles to chew and ruminate. The pebbles sighed every time. The sensation of their joining was appreciated several times. They never tired of it, it was just as wonderful every time.

In the late afternoon, the cow left to go get milked. She came back the next day to eat and lie down in the pebbles, and continued doing so for several years.

Most of the time, when the quantity of milk a cow can produce is reduced to a non-profitable level, a milk cow is slaughtered, typically for ground meat for hamburgers. But not this cow. The cheese made from the cow's milk was so notably tasty that she continued to live as a milker even after the cost of keeping her alive was more than the profits gained from her. Many people questioned the farmer's business acumen. Having the cost of inputs greater than the profits from the output is not financially sustainable. But then they tasted the cheese, and they understood. If you had tasted that cheese, you would understand too.


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