MARS NEEDS ICE CREAM

aka 'The MOOrtian' aka 'Deep Space Kine'

May 18, 2024

In the predawn darkness, a Cow watched the horizon with limpid, dewy eyes. It wasn't that Emoolia hadn't seen a space launch before... it was she wanted to go on one.

The other cows were not amused.

"This is not very cow-like." Lolita lowed at her over the fescue clumps. "You need to be more aware of your physical limitations. You'd probably just explode in space."

Emoolia said nothing, but simply stared placidly at the launch pad, watching crews load containers bound for Mars. The Cow's glossy black and white coat gleamed in the dawning sun, giving her a heroic visage, face into the wind, hay between her square teeth.

"You are too enamoured with the poetry of John McGee, Emoolia." Moolan complained. "You think you would be 'breaking the surly bonds of earth' to touch the face of God, when in reality you can do the same here while eating a cabbage."

Emoolia paid no mind.

"She shouldn't have been reading it over the Rancher's shoulder. " A little heifer trotted by, tossing her head and swishing her tail. "That's just rude...."

"I agree entirely, Mooshi. That Rocket base has been a bad influence." Lowlita snuffled through a mouthful of grass. "Emoolia hasn't been the same since it was built. She just keeps staring at it."

Ignoring her haters, Emoolia gazed into the distance, watching with calm interest as a sleek silver car pulled up to park on the nearby county road. A dark-haired man in a simple tshirt and bluejeans exited to stand just outside the vehicle, admiring the view and taking photographs.

"That's the owner. We need to say something now, or forever be silent." Casting an accusing glance over her shoulder at a Majestic Holstein Bull, Moolan mumbled into her hay: "I'd wait for His Majesty, Sir Loin, to make a formal complaint, but he's too busy making calves. Follow me, Ladies..."

Bells ringing, the cattle made their way through the field to the fence, staring into the Texas sunrise. Bermuda grass waved in the fresh spring breeze, beckoning to be eaten, but the herd had other plans...

There was still much milk to be made, but they felt it important enough to glare through the barbed wire and moo. After much jostling and occasional pushing, Moolan huffed, satisfied. "I believe they heard us. We have made our presence known; we shall try again tomorrow. Let's head back to the barn; I hear ranch cubes hitting a feedbin -"

they turned back toward the comfort of the barn, following their leader. Moolan trotted faster, hearing the ranch cubes rattle, only to be stopped by a moo-squawk from Lowlita:

"Oh my stars and garters, Emoolia has jumped the fence!"

Emoolia was trotting away, hay trailing from her mouth, headed towards the silver car and the mysterious dark-haired man...

TO BE CONTINUED??