Heifer caught going in-cow-neato
What was supposed to be a fun introduction to life at UC Davis for incoming freshman James Daly ended in butt-hurt. Daly, recently admitted for biochemistry, was attending orientation and hoped to get a cliche photo with a Tercero cow after registering for classes. Spoiler alert: he did not.
“I’m just so upset,” said Daly’s mother, Kate Weiner-Daly. “I took Jimmy to campus so he could get registered for classes and to take a picture of my little man with those cows by the dorms. My precious was already sad because he couldn’t get the best Chem 2A professor, Dr. Startlate, and also had to sign up for a 7 to 10 p.m. lab. Isn’t that right, precious?”
Daly shrugged.
“As you can see, he’s very upset,” Weiner-Daly continued. “So yeah, I thought he would cheer up once he got a picture with the cows. AND LO AND BEHOLD, not a single cow was in the pen by the dorms. Un-freaking-believable. I’m giving this orientation a one-star review on Yelp, and the school will be hearing from my lawyer.”
The Daly family was not the only ones to notice a lack of lactate-rs that weekend. Numerous parent-child duos called the UC Davis police department to report the absent cows. Officers sent to investigate the case of missing moos suspected it to be the work of the notorious Davis Beef Thief.
In the midst of conducting the interview with the Dalys, Campus News reporter Vicky Cattleman noticed a strange figure in a grey hoodie, sunglasses and ball cap slinking around the corner of Mahogany Hall. Cattleman approached what she thought was a fellow human being when she realized that this “person” was actually one of the missing cows in disguise.
“Ugh, can you paparazzi just leave me alone?” said Cow 2789. “It’s bad enough with all the parents and their little brats trying to get a photo with me ‘cause it’s orientation season. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, but I don’t WANT them in my yard.”
“I see, Miss 2789,” Cattleman said. “I’ll let you go enjoy your weekend.”
“Thanks, you a real one,” 2789 said, finger-gunning and walking into the sunset.
Written by: Madeline Kumagai — mskumagai@ucdavis.edu
(This article is humor and/or satire, and its content is purely fictional. The story and the names of “sources” are fictionalized.)
