Sunday night I came to a surprising realization: there aren’t a whole lot of fairy tales that begin with, “Once upon a time there was a cow.”
I thought back to my childhood and remembered lots of stories about princesses, mermaids, frogs, more princesses and even pigs, but never did I hear of a story regarding a cow. So I did what any sane-minded individual would do: late Sunday night at 1 am, I decided to write one.
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Once upon a time there was a cow. He was a big. He was brown. He was a big brown cow with really long legs, lots of fur and a funny looking face. His name was Carl and Carl was the biggest cow out of all the cow babies in that season’s litter. As he grew up he was teased because he looked so different from the other cows. The worst of it came when he was a teenager and his horns started coming in. What was supposed to be an exciting time in his life turned out to be just another reason to be made fun of because to Carl’s disappointment even his new horns looked different from everyone else’s!
Carl soon realized that he needed to find the answers to the questions he asked countless times:
Who am I?
Where did I come from?
Why am I so different?
Will I ever fit in?
Carl knew he wouldn’t find the answers here so he set out on a journey. His travels took him north and eventually led him to the frontier of Alaska. It was at this moment that all of Carl’s questions were answered. As he gazed across the valley he looked out over the field and smiled, for – you see – Carl… was actually a Moose.
The End.