La Vaca, Tineo Patagonia 


(the cow) 

There once was a cow. A lonely, thirsty cow, living in the waterless top pasture at Tineo Patagonia. New to the campo it had not yet established a name or true owner for itself; someone to attended to its water needs.  Thankfully this was all about to change, for on the horizon was a family from Canada set to rewrite this poor cows story. Seemly in adept to handle such a grave situation, no one expected these two teachers and their cat-obsessed twelve year to turn our campo upside down. 

The story truly begins on a brisk February morning in the year of 2015. The family having only just arrived two days prior were not yet accustom to the perpetual caos that is Tineo Patagonia. Whether it was their experience in a hectic classroom setting, or some other unknown factor, these two teachers (and their cat-obsessed twelve year old) had no trouble adapting to the constant flurry of misdirection. In fact, these Canadians were about to take the caos one step further. 

As the new “owners” and self labeled advocates, the Canadians had already become sympathic to our poor cows plight. Thus, when they were driving past the river and spotted a cow (on the other side of fence that is), it was only logical that this thrist driven cow, was indeed our thirst driven cow. 

“Our cow,” they shouted at once. 

“Our cow has escaped,” they proclaimed. 

“Well it only makes sense. For if a cow is thirsty, which our cow is, it’s going to find a way to water,” the mother reasons with a tint of righteousness in her voice. 

The Canadians quickly decide that the cow needs to be re-captured, re-enclosed in its desert like enclosure. It is our cow, and it belongs in its Aqua-free zone. 

So off they went, rope in one hand, determination in the other. Up the river, down the river, in the river with legs up in the air; they searched for the cow. 

Taking matters into his own hands the father ventured out on his own. (The mother may or may not have been changing her river drenched clothes, but we won’t mention that). Up the river he went. Further and further until he came to a pasture. 

A pasture strangely filled with hundreds of cow pies. One cow made all these cow pies in the short time he had escaped, the father was thinking when around the bend comes not only “our” cow, but a whole herd of them. And they continued to come until it dawned on the poor man.

 Perhaps they had jumped to conclusions. Perhaps they had spent the entire day searching for a cow that perhaps was still in its enclosure. 

Maybe, just maybe there was more than one cow in these Patagonian lands. 

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