Cow and Donkeys Adventure. On a very average Tuesday morning, on a very ordinary farm,

two very bored animals were staring at the same patch of grass they had stared at every single day for seven long years.

I swear, said cow chewing slowly. If I eat one more blade of this green disappointment,

I'll turn into a salad.

Same, said donkey, kicking a turnip in frustration.

If I haul one more cart of root vegetables to the barn, oh, I'll apply for early retirement myself.

The farm was quiet, as it had been for as long as cow could remember.

Long ago, there had been a sharp-witted sheepdog and a goat who loved a mischief,

and may have been a bit evil, but sheepdog had escaped to seek adventure,

and cow was pretty sure that

goat was now in jail. Today, the farm was quiet. Too quiet. Even the chickens, usually rowdy

gossipers, had fallen asleep mid-clark. Oh, this is it!

Cow declared suddenly, standing tall on her slightly muddy hooves,

we are wasting our lives, we're going to do something remarkable.

Donkey blinked.

Like what, though?

Cow paused.

I have an idea.

Adventure doesn't come to those who wait.

It comes to those who walk straight through the gate and don't come back until something's

exploded, just like sheepdog.

Fair point, said donkey.

...