Five Fictional Cows

It's still National Cow Week! On Monday, I posted a post extolling the wonderfullness of cows. But one thing many people don't know is that cows are actually an overarching, unifying theme found throughout all literature. 
Which is to say: Lots of books have cows in them. 
And since this blog is ostensibly for talking about books, I thought I'd devote a post to some (five, in fact) of my favourite fictional bovids. 
5. Daisy, from Daisy, by Brian Wildsmith 
Daisy is a picture book, and according to Amazon it's for kids for three to six. (An age range that I fall pretty far outside of, thanksverymuch.) It was apparently published in 1984. And I luffs it. 
Farmer Brown has a cow. Her name is Daisy. One day, Daisy leaves her field, because Farmer Brown forgot to close the gate. She wanders out, and comes to a village built into the side of a hill. But she can't get down! Firemen come to rescue her, and TV people even show up! Soon afterwards, a film producer decides to rent Daisy from Farmer Brown in order to make her into a movie star. She acts in many movies and becomes a huge star. She's made Cow of the Year. She acts in a bubble-bath commercial. Banquets are held in her honour, and caviar, smoked salmon, champagne, lemonade, ice cream, and cake are all served. But Daisy doesn't like this food; she wants grass, and buttercups. So, in a shocking display of rudeness, she kicks this food onto the floor. She grows thin, and pale, and sad, and is brought to a "famous veterinarian." (I have to ask: Was it this guy? He's one of the more famous vets out there.) This vet diagnoses homesickness, and says that going back to her old field and eating grass would cure her. They decide to make one last movie: Daisy Comes Home. She goes back to her old field, atop an airplane, to live at the farm again with Farmer Brown. 

And Daisy? She often thought of her adventurous days as a movie star. But now she was content to live where she really belonged. 

This book has awesome illustrations, and it's a very sweet story about cows and fame, and why the two don't mix. 

4. The Dish of the Day, from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, by Douglas Adams 
(The Restaurant at the End of the Universe is the second book in the Hitchhiker trilogy by Douglas Adams.) 

A large dairy animal approached Zaphod Beeblebrox's table, a large fat meaty quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips. 

"Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am the main Dish of the Day." 

At the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, where, thanks to time travel, you can eat as you watch the universe be destroyed around you, you can meet the Dish of the Day. A cow which will request that you eat it. 
See, it's not really wrong to eat animals. What is wrong is eating animals which don't want to be eaten. So a species of cow was bred which wanted to be eaten and could very clearly and distinctly say so. This can be more than a little creepy and alarming to those not used to it, but it is clearly far more humane than the other way. As Zaphod points out, "Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten." 
(And of course they're absolutely hilarious. Eoin's Colfer's ah - sequel - to the Hitchhiker trilogy, And Another Thing, contains this marvellous bit: 

The cow spat. "What are you going to do? Not eat me?" 

"That's right. I won't eat you and I won't eat your entire family. Wherever they hide, I'll find them and not eat a single bite. 

The cow was cowed.)

Me? I'm just waiting till they can do this with, say, chickens, or fish, and thereby release me from all my carnivore guilt.  
3. Miss Bessie, from Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson 

"Bang," he said, and took off flying around the cow field. Miss Bessie strolled toward the centre, still following him with her droopy eyes, chewing slowly. She didn't look very smart, even for a cow, but she was plenty bright enough to get out of Jess's way. 

"But Bridge to Terabithia is not a cow book!" you cry. Well, to be honest, I used to think so too. Until very recently (like, yesterday) I heard some of my classmates giving a presentation on this book. They stated that, basically, Jess's best friend at the beginning of this book is a cow. And I was like, "Oh, yeah, this book does have a cow in it." 
"But," you cry, "the cow has no importance whatsoever to the plot!" 
"Um, yes!" I say. "I'm sure she does! What about the bit during the climax when Miss Bessie reveals herself to be a traitor and throws a grenade at Leslie? What do you mean that's not in there? Maybe you just read the abridged version? Isn't it annoying how those abridged versions always take out all the best bits?" 
But at any rate, Jess spends a large amount of time milking a cow, and I'm sure that at some point he and Leslie have a meaningful and plot-important conversation while he does it. Right? Right. 
2. The Cows that Type, from Click, Clack, Moo: Cows that Type, by Doreen Cronin 

Click, Clack, Moo, like Daisy, features a farmer named Farmer Brown. Maybe there's just something about that name, I dunno. Anycow, Farmer Brown's cows find an old typewriter in the barn, and they begin typing. (Which has got to be hard with hooves.) And they use their newfound typing skills to stand up for their rights: 

Dear Farmer Brown,

The barn is very cold at night. We'd like some electric blankets.

Sincerely,

The Cows

Aaaaaand it's been a while since I've read it and I don't have a copy but I'm pretty sure the cows get blankets eventually. 
But the thing about this book: These are not normal cows. Normal cows have very little in their lives. They chew their cud, they get milked, they try to avoid being eaten. But the cows of Click, Clack, Moo are cows that know what they want. They are cows that will not take no for an answer. And they are cows that type.
Sure, these cows can be seen as good role models for the young'uns this book is intended for. They're determined, they're good typists, they stand up to tyrants.... But these are also cows capable of destroying humanity. 
You see, on one level, this is a charming story about cows that type. But on another level, this is an exploration of one of humankind's worst fears: Cows that type. 
Also the illustrations are good. 
1. The Purple Cow, from "The Purple Cow: Reflections on a Mythic Beast Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least," by Gelett Burgess 
In any discussion of literary cows, one must necessarily rise above all others: The Purple Cow. 
The Purple Cow originates in a poem written by Gelett Burgess: "The Purple Cow: Reflections on a Mythic Beast Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least." 

I never saw a purple cow

I never hope to see one;

But I can tell you, anyhow,

I'd rather see than be one!

A purple cow. Picture by yours truly. 

Surely this is one of the deepest statements in all of bovine literature. Certainly it is symbolic of something. What do you mean it's just nonsense poetry? 
It has come to my attention that the Burgess later wrote another poem about the purple cow: 

Ah, yes, I wrote the "Purple Cow"—

I'm Sorry, now, I wrote it;

But I can tell you Anyhow

I'll Kill you if you Quote it!

I'm sure there's a lesson in here from which we can all learn. If only I could figure out what it is. But I think that I, too, would be annoyed were I to write loads and loads of books and be remembered for a nonsense poem about a cow. 
Which is your favourite fictional cow? Do you have one I forgot? Leave a comment! 
For more bovine goodness (by other people) this National Cow Week, click here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and/or here.