I drive quite a bit. I like the feeling of moving along the road, with a view of green pastures on occasion. In Texas that's not a rare thing, even in a city as large as San Antonio. Small farms dot the landscape. A strange thing happens to me when I pass a herd of cows.
I moo at the bovines.
I can't help it. I know that the cows can't hear me. I know that they wouldn't care, even if they did. They're cows, and more concerned with chewing than much else. And knowing that doesn't mean a darn thing. As soon as I see a cow, I moo at it. This makes attending parties at ranches a bit awkward.
I've been doing this for years. As long as I can remember, anyway. I also bark at dogs, and meow at strange cats, but nobody comments on that. I guess it is more socially acceptable to do that. To moo at cows, on the other hand, is considered passing strange.
I was happy, some years back to find out that a name had been given to my malady. Rich Hall, a comedian from the 80s, would make up words he called "Sniglets". Among these I found the word "bovilexia", which is the uncontrollable urge to yell "moo" when passing a herd of cows. That's it! I thought. And obviously, I can't be the only one who hollers at cows, since somebody up and made a word up to describe it. What a relief, at least for me. Not the poor cows, assaulted by the random 'moo' of passerby all day long.
Times have changed. I've accepted my crazy. I even change it up on occasion. These days, I pass other animals on my way to work, including goats, sheep, a llama and a donkey.
I holler at the cows. "MOOO!!!"
I holler at the llama. "HEY LLAMA!!! WHAT'S UP?"
I holler at the donkey. "YO DONKEY!!!"
I still holler at the goats and sheep, "BAA!", because sheep and goats don't have time for my shenanigans.