If you're like me, you've probably wondered if cows prefer cheesy pretzel chips over grass. Of course, unlike me, you probably were able to see a shrink and get those kind of distracting thoughts out of your head so that you could focus on more productive tasks.
My wife loves cows. I do, too, though usually in the forms of burgers and steaks. While I want to marinate them, she wants to pet them. And on the way to visit friends in the northern suburbs of Ideal, Georgia (also known as Rupert, population 47), we stopped to visit some cows.
We had picked up lunch in Ideal at the local convenience store, also known as "the downtown district." We would have opted for the historic chicken wings in the warmer, but she decided to go with some kind of cheesy pretzel chips, while I picked up an ice cream bar. It took a little while because we were stuck behind a drunk fellow with bloodshot eyes negotiating the price of a 12-pack of beer at 2 in the afternoon. Being pretty savvy business folks, we decided not to take him up on his generous offer of: "Hey, lemme hold two dollars."
When we hit Rupert -- the town, remember, not a guy -- we knew we were far from the urban metropolis of Ideal because we began to see more animals than people. Despite Rupert's astounding population growth of 571 percent since the year 2000, animals far outnumber the people in Rupert.
In fact, cows outnumber the people in Rupert. They also are a tourist attraction for my wife, who ordered me to stop the car and then help her through a barbed-wire fence so she could "pet the cows." I told her they're not fond of being petted (or tipped when they're sleeping, but that's another story), but she insisted on summoning them with the offer of sharing her cheesy pretzel chips -- to which the cows responded much the same way we did to the offer of letting the drunk hold two dollars. They walked away quickly. The more she used tried-and-true cow calls such as "Here cow! C'mon, cow! Want some pretzels?," they shockingly kept moving away.
I've always wanted to move to someplace like Rupert -- or, better yet, somewhere on the outskirts without all the hustle and bustle -- but my wife is not interested in moving anywhere that the nearest industry is 5 miles away and involves letting people hold two dollars.
Her best friend is moving to Rupert, so I thought that might encourage her to consider moo-ving out of the city -- especially once she saw some of the amenities Rupert offered, such as a pack of wild hogs, dirt roads, deer, winding creeks with rope swings and my personal favorite, yellow flies.
In fact, after being positively sure she saw a monkey and then annihilating a quail with her SUV, she was pretty sure Rupert was on the edge of the African Congo. About the only animal she didn't see was Bigfoot, although I think he owns a trailer halfway between Rupert and Ideal.
So, I guess I'll have to give up on my dream of moving to the outskirts of Rupert. If only those bovine would have cow-operated.
-- Connect with Chris Johnson at Facebook.com/KudzuKidWriting or on Twitter @kudzukid88.