Bovine

I'm never quite sure how it happens, but I often find myself on the business end of a cow. In Manshiyet Nasr, livestock and automobiles live an integrated life. I now know how to walk down the street and not flinch at the countless number of trucks that lumber passed me leaving only inches of space. It's just part of the territory, and I refuse to let four year old children be more adept at dodging traffic than me. Occasionally though, the traffic is more bovine in nature, and I fear those large rear ends at eye level much more than automatic engines carrying tons of trash. Because if I were bovine, I'd be quite wary of a rather slight human being hovering around my hindquarters. Even though they are being rather unceremoniously hauled forward by a rope tied around their snouts, I see their large round eyes roll towards me, and I wonder how long it will take before they shoot out a back hoof and knock me flat on my own tail. So I jump up on curbs and rough hewn store fronts and try to scoot passed them before my presence is overly catalogued. 

I saw a crazy one the other day. It was enormous and standing so still that at first I thought it was a statue. Although its coat was a rich, glossy brown, its tail bones and spines were sticking out in a grotesque display of malnourishment, and one of its eyes was a glassy blue cataract. It wasn't until a slight movement of it's head that I realized I was looking at a cow. I pointed to it, and Raymon said "Cow, yes." I almost responded that I thought it wasn't real, but quickly realized how silly that would have sounded. Why on earth would someone have a cow statue standing in front of their house in Garbage City? I'm more thankful than I can say that my common sense filter seems to be in working order when it comes to verbal outbursts. It's been of great use to me more times than I can count.