(Illustration by Meg van Schaik)
A few NHW shifts ago, while stationed at my post in my car, the night was as quiet as the dreaming of trees.
It was nearing midnight when the loud bellow of a cow galloped through the silence. Within minutes, she was really milking it, mooing the crickets into stillness.
Soon, the comms were busy with sleepy villagers concerned that the beast was in distress.
Covertly bending the curfew laws, I sneaked up to the empty plot one block away where the cow had been left to graze. She saw my torchlight and galumphed up to the fence to greet me.
“Hello cow,” I whispered. “You’re being rather vocal tonight. Are you in distress?”
“No,” said the cow. “I’m gossiping.”
I looked around, noticing the cow was alone in her field. “But who are you gossiping with, and why?” I asked.
“Have you noticed how far my voice carries?” she asked. “Of course,” I replied. “The whole village can hear you.”
“And what are they saying?” she asked.
“Well, some think you’re in distress. Others think you’re lonely or hungry. Someone even suggested you’re bored.” I replied.
“You see? it’s working,” she said. “Well, it’s just loud mooing” I replied.
“You’re missing the point,” said the cow. “I have just proved that gossiping can be a good thing. You people, especially in small villages, gossip all the time. And that’s good. It creates bonds with others, and allows individuals to measure their own success, mistakes or social standing. It can promote self-correction and self-improvement. Not all gossip is bad.”
“Wow, that’s deep stuff for a cow.” I said, pulling my left foot out of one of her recently baked ground-brownies. “But again, I ask you, who are you gossiping with?”
“Oh many of my non-human friends,” she replied. "The horses up the road, the bat eared fox that just ran behind me, cows on the other side of the village and, of course, the birds.”
“The birds?” I asked in surprise. “Do they join in the gossip too?” “Oh yes,” said the cow. “And what are they saying?” I asked. “Well, as you can hear, they’re all asleep now.”
She paused with a faraway look in her soft eyes as her butt trumpet blew a deep B-flat.
“But I’ll know in the morning when they all start Tweeting.”
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