resident

Chotu

Is an Ox, born on 2003-06-14, who joined us on 2003-11-11.

After being born I was tied next to my Mom and only allowed to nurse from her twice daily for five minutes at a time. It is a wonder I survived the first month when all I would eat is milk. Practically I was starved so the owner could take all the milk. It was torture and I suspect that as a result I am stunted for the rest of my life. After my Mom stopped producing milk, I was unceremoniously pushed out the gate and shooed away. Already weakened by starvation, my chances of survival were pretty slim. I followed some other cows to the vegetable market where we had to fight for scraps. Being weak I was easily pushed aside and hardly got anything to eat. Dejected, I started walking toward the outskirts of town hoping to find somewhere to graze. It so happened that when I stopped at the Care for Cows gate it was feeding time and when the cowherd men saw me in that weakened state, they let me in and I have not missed a meal since.







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