They have raspy tongues.

That said, I prefer beefalo.

I had no idea the world of meat-eating could be made even more uninteresting, but "a cow I feel nothing for tasted like beef" expanded to multiple paragraphs definitely takes the fucking cake.

I'm looking forward to part 2: "Our Deaf Chicken Tastes Like Chicken Strips When Fried: By The Way, Vegetarians, I Feel No Remorse."

@3: Can I have my broomstick back, please? And give it a wash first, wouldya?

That was nicely written, Bethany.

Bethany. Must you troll?

sometimes an article just rushes by, i was almost a little bummed when it ended.

a cow must have licked my head

i quite liked this article.

80 acres is exactly the same size as the farm i grew up on, 30 min outside portland. and while most people from east of the cascades would scoff at anyone calling that a "ranch," i still enjoyed the memories this article evoked. we too raised beef cattle (herefords) and i watched many of them being born (as recently as college i retrieved one from the wrong side of the fence it had slide under when its mother had chosen a poor spot for birthing-no small task considering the slime, barbed wire, and super-angry-momma cow) and even named them. but i too felt no attachment for them. our dogs, cats, rabbit, horses--the loss of any of these animals was mourned as if we had lost a family member. but the cows? well, they were tasty. and the lives they lived were about the best a cow can hope to have. because i lived on the farm with the cows, i perhaps got to experience a wider spectrum of cow behavior (steers can actually be quite nasty if properly provoked). one of my most vivid memories is watching my grandfather castrate our steers. my brothers were taunting me for some forgotten reason and my grandfather turned on them, steer blood dripping off his elbows, and with a little bit of his scots-gaelic accent coming through threatened my brothers, "if you don't leave your sister alone right now, you'll be next."
my extended family split the steer so we each (my grandparents, aunt's, uncle's, and mom's families) got 1/4 of a steer. everyone got different "gross" cuts each year. it was almost always just steers that were slaughtered, but every now and then a barren cow would "go down the road" too (it really was literally down the road, we could see the slaughterhouse from our living room window and were good friends with the family that ran it). one year, my mother's last beloved old cow (that cow must've been at least 20 yrs old) went that way. my mom had doted on this cow as a teenager (my poor mom never got a horse, as i had) and it was one of the sweetest cows in the herd. she would actually approach you and always lick your hand (i actually found cow tongues terrifying as a child, they are huge, and cows have really bad breath). so of course, the year she was slaughtered, we got the tongue.

Liked this, Bethany. Thanks for sharing.

I thought I had read elements of this story before, and I was right: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/the-b…

Still a good anecdote, though.

awesome

Thanks for the reflection. Makes me think of my Gramps who was pissed he had sons who left kids for him to deal with. An abusive bloke when drunk and a horrible driver his drunk driveing left nothing to stock car raceing imagination?

One blind steer? sounds like a rock band from Seattle! MMMMMMMMMOOoooooooooooo!

a literate touch in the big city, although Seattle is not a big city. and the whinings of city folk about the quality of writing of someone who actually experienced something. Those who whine don't have a clue about the richness of life. "Uh, is it on page 4 or in the Arts and Life section?"

Seattle might as well be new york...one thousand times smaller. Natives born here before 1970 will remember life, heck...anyone who lived here before 1970 will be more in tune with life! Those born since...? welcome to LA

Man, I could actually see this cow, pictured in my mind. Twas a beautiful narrative.

Why is it so rare to have a good bit of writing in The Stranger? I was a little sorry to see that this article came out of that other one. (http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/the-b…)
Still, THIS is the story: not contaminated with smiling faces and some "important" bit of news. More Clement and less of that self important wanker. I'll let him remain nameless.

This is basically how I (a vegetarian) want people to feel about their meat.

Great story written from a great perspective, one that is sadly lacking in the folks in town that feel wierd when they are in a place without sidewalks.