resident

Gulab

Is an Ox, born on 2004-05-05, who joined us on 2005-04-22.

I was among many other abandoned bulls in Loi Baazar where we used to live on the handouts of the fruit and vegetable merchants. It was tough as the rule is only the strong survive. Because I am small and have a gentle nature I would get pushed around a lot but some people took an interest in me and helped make sure I got enough to survive. But one day I got hit by a car and was left with a broken tibia. For those of you who don't know bull anatomy, the tibia is the bone above the knee joint of the rear leg. So then I had to try to get enough to survive on with only three legs. My right rear leg dangled freely and offered no support... only pain. But a nice man took pity on me and arranged to take me to Care for Cows. When the Vet came he asked the cowherd men how long my leg had been broken and of course they didn't know. It's hard being a patient when you can't communicate with the doctor. The Vet said that he had treated many cases of broken tibia and that they rarely mend. And since my leg had been broken for an unknown period, the chances were very slim that it would mend properly. Mostly these kind of fractures calcify in time leaving the limb frail, clumsy, deformed and practically useless. I was not encouraged to hear all this. But the man who had arranged to help me asked the Vet to try his best, that he would cover the cost of the bandaging and plaster and so on. Three men worked on my leg for two hours and then they stood me up and I could walk around. At first it felt uncomfortable, but I got used to it. I had to stay tied up for six weeks and I amazed everyone with my patience and gentle behavior. The Vet's eyes opened wide after removing the cast saying that he never expected my leg would mend so well. He and the cowherd men celebrated. Now I am getting adjusted to using it again and even run and jump at times to show off.







My situation is a solemn one. Life is offered to me on condition of eating beefsteaks. But death is better than cannibalism. My will contains directions for my funeral, which will be followed not by mourning coaches, but by oxen, sheep, flocks of poultry, and a small traveling aquarium of live fish, all wearing white scarfs in honor of the man who perished rather than eat his fellow creatures.

George Bernard Shaw