Source: Pearls Before Swine, July 30, 2008Not that it has anything to do with the above comment, but I did have a run in with a highland cow once. Those are big furry buggers. I had the odd fortune to take a car trip to the highlands with a friend of a friend (because he had a license and I had the cash for the rental car). I saw Loch Ness. I saw sheep. And when Dale pulled over to the side of the road to have a piss, I saw COW. I never learned to say "cow" properly in Dale's opinion. It has an enormous number of vowels, actually. But he drank Longneck Bud, so I'm not sure he had any cultural superiority there.
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One of the few visible scars of my childhood: caused by a dairy cow during a weeklong stay on a farm in northern Utah when I was 9. I think she was trying to bite me, so in my haste to back away, I hit barbed wire. I've been leery of them ever since.
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