Betsy Bovine

                                        Betsy Bovine

     Betsy Bovine was a milk cow. Her best friend was Peggy Porker a sow. One day in the barnyard, during girl talk, Betsy asked Peggy, “Do you ever wish that you were a male of your species instead of a female?”

     “Why heavens no. Whatever makes you ask that Betsy dear?” responded Peggy shocked by such a question.

     “Well I read on the internet the other day this story about a male animal, a human being male animal actually, who became a human being female animal, because he believed that his mind was geared and wired toward the feminine side of things and not the masculine. So he had a sex change operation and became a female.

     “Fascinating,” was Peggy’s Vulcan like reply as she took another drag of her cigarette that she held ever so daintily in her hoof and then giggled, “Veeeery interesting.” 

     “Well what do you think?” begged Betsy.

     “Think about what dear?” Peggy was nonplussed.

     “If I should get the operation or not. Sometimes I feel my masculine side emerging.”

     “You mean you have a split personality like Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hide?”

     “No not like that. More like Cat Lynn the man woman in the article.”

     “I say go for it sweetie if that’s what you’re sure you want to do,” encouraged Peggy.  “After all it’s either that or a lifetime of being milked and bred. That is of course unless you don’t mind those cold clamps on your udders each morning and then being put out to pasture every so often so old Mr. Avail A. Bull can jump your bones and knock you up.”

     “You know now that you put it that way I’m going to do it,” said a now enthused Betsy. “Males do have all the fun don’t they? They just eat and breed and leave us females alone with the hard job of raising their offspring. They got it made. Besides I don’t believe that I’m cut out for motherhood anyway. By God I’m going to do it,” she bellowed feeling proud and assertive just like a male of her species would feel she thought.  

     “Well gotta go now dearie. I’ve got ten hungry piglets waiting on me for their dinner.” Peggy Porker stuffed out her cigarette, actually it was ditch weed rolled up in corn husks, gulped down the last of her homemade corn liquor swill and waddled her two hundred pound plus carcass back toward the farrowing house giving Betsy a rear end view of her waving her pig tail goodbye. Not a pleasant sight.

     Betsy had read that Cat Lynn’s surgery had been performed by one Dr. Ivanstein Muscovy. So she made an appointment to talk to him about such an operation for herself. Dr. Muscovy was one of the few doctors in the world that perform these operations and sometimes not so successfully.

     Dr. Muscovy lived in the USA now. Years ago he had fled his homeland during the war and had been given asylum here because he was quite knowledgeable in certain scientific experimental research. But even here he was still fearful for his life because his wartime experiments had not been quite kosher. So he tried to change his looks, he had already changed his name, by doing plastic surgery on himself. He botched the operation and left himself with a puffy, red, scarred up, bumpy face. The man was a quack.

     All this was unknown to Betsy of course as she entered his office and was greeted by the doctor’s bug eyed assistant Igor Equine. She was taken back by the horrible painfully looking hump on the poor old horse’s back as he sidled up to her and greeted her with a gummy hideous toothless smile. Poor Igor had previously had a terrible swayback having been ridden for many years by a three hundred pound female human. Dr. Muscovy had operated on him to correct the problem but unfortunately had over corrected it so that now Igor was often mistaken for a camel. 

     “The good doctor will see you now,” he whinnied. “Walk this way please.” 

     Betsy started to follow him when Igor suddenly turned around and scolded her. “Not like that. Like this. Like I walk.” He then showed her how to walk all bent over and hobbling with the right hoof dragging the floor. Betsy imitated his walk, best she could that is, and followed him to the good doctor’s office.

       Dr. Muscovy with a monocle over his right eye, a scrunched up face, and a cigarette in a long black cigarette holder dangling from his bill greeted her with a false warmness. “Willkommen meine fraulein you’ve come to the right place.” Betsy was a obviously a Holstein, a German breed of cow, and Dr. Muscovy therefore put a little German in his conversation to impress her and put her at ease. Though on occasion, like this time, he unconsciously still spoke in his native tongue. 

     “Well I’m not quite sure that I’m ready to do this,” Betsy mooed somewhat shyly.

 “There’s nothing to fear my dear. It’s a quite safe operation and everybody is doing it nowadays. It’s the in thing to do. It’s trendy, fashionable. You might even say that it’s chick. I mean chic.  All the hep cats are doing it,” he added. 

      Worried about what all this would cost her Betsy asked him, “Is this covered under the Affordable Animal Health Care Act?

     “Not yet but the Democats are working on it and President Opossum has promised us that it will be and he always gets his way you know.”

     “Well until that happens, how much will it cost me?” asked Betsy.

     Dr. Muscovy told her how many clams it would set her back. 

    “Wow that’s not chicken feed,” exclaimed Betsy taken back by the price. “I’m not sure I can afford to be a male, not just yet  anyway.”

     “Look,” said Dr. Muscovy not wanting to lose a sale. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you, at the same cost, an operation that still leaves you as a female but adds the male organs. That way you can try it out and if you don’t like it you can go back to the way you were. There will be no charge for the reverse operation. Furthermore, at no charge to you also, I’ll convert you to all male of the specie if that’s what you want. Or you can remain dual gender and have the best of both worlds.”

     “Dual gender?” asked Betsy.

     “Oh yes dual gender. It’s the next big thing. Pretty soon every animal in the world will be wanting to be dual gendered. Just you wait and see. And you my dear can be at the forefront of it all just like Cat Lynn was with her operation.” Dr. Muscovy had never done a dual gender operation. But what the heck he thought. If he could pull that off he would make a lot of money and acquire a nice little nest egg to retire on.

     “I need to go back to the farm and think about all this,” said Betsy as politely as she could, still in sticker shock.

     “Okay then,” replied Dr. Muscovy realizing that he hadn’t made a sale today but not willing to give up just yet. So he sales pitched,  “But don’t take too long. Our dual gender offer is a limited time offer only. Act now and save.”

     Betsy went back to the barnyard and talked to Peggy about all this.

     “Sounds like a bargain to me Betsy dearie. You can have the best of both worlds.”

     “What about the worst of both worlds Peggy. I don’t want to be fixed with that.”

     “Just have the doctor reverse you back then. Besides, it might be a hoot being male and female at the same time. Sorry dearie but I’ve gotta go now. My break is over.” she said, stuffing  the last of her pork rinds in her mouth. “Got nine hungry piglets wanting on me for supper.”

     “I thought you had ten.”

     “I did but last night in my sleep I rolled over on one and crushed him, or her, to death. Got nine now.”

     “Oh I’m sorry,” said Betsy.

     “Don’t be. It’s no big deal. Soon as this litter of Porker piglets is shipped off to the pig parlor, I’ll be making more anyway. Bye.”

     Betsy thought it over, decided to not to be chicken any longer and get this over with. So she saved up her milk money, accepted the limited time offer, it was still open, and scheduled a time for the operation.

     Dr. Muscovy operated and after the anesthesia wore off  he met with her for a little postoperative chat.

     “The operation was a success dear, or should I say sir, or should I say dear sir,” he chuckled proud of himself for his corny humor. “Take a peek and see for yourself.”

     Betsy lifted up her sheet and looked at her nether regions. She was now plumbed both ways.

     “Now let me give you some advice before you’re discharged. Since you have two sexes now, whenever you are aroused, both sets of sexual equipment will be fully functional at the same time. Therefore before you go for that proverbial roll in the hay make sure you tell your partner that you’re acting either as a male or a female. This will avoid any unnecessary embarrassment for the both of you.” Dr. Muscovy tried to stifle a cackling little quack but was unable to do so. 

     “Thank you for that information doctor,” Betsy said somewhat hesitatingly.

     “Bitte,” he said.

     “Huh?” said Betsy for she could not speak German even if she was of German descent.

     “Igor will show you out,” responded Dr. Muscovy quickly, anxious to get her out of there before she asked any questions.

     “Walk this way please, “ said Igor again.

     Betsy did not need to be cued this time as she again imitated Igor’s walk until he was out of her sight.

     Back at the farm Betsy went about her business of being a milk cow. She was not quite ready  to act as a bull yet but she still dreamed about being a one, dreamed both daydreams and nightdreams about it. And one night while sleeping she had one of those wet dreams. Not having been a male before she was not sure what had happened. But she soon was sure about one thing. Sure that she was pregnant now. Wondering how this could have happened without having had any sexual contact with a bull she went back to Dr. Muscovy for an explanation.

     “Unfortunately this is one of the side effects of being dual gendered, becoming self impregnated that is. I can abort the calf if you wish at no charge to you. All abortions are free under Opossum Care,” Dr. Muscovy informed her.

     Betsy was now thoroughly disgusted now with this whole gender thing. “You told me that I would have the best of both worlds and what I got was the worst of both worlds,“ she screamed.  “My lawyers Donkey, Cheetah and Cow will be getting in touch with you, you quack.”

     Igor did not show her out. She knew the way and the walk by now.

     Back at the farm Farmer Dell noticed Betsey’s pregnancy and didn’t like what he saw. He had told Betsy to have the operation thinking that he would then have two bovines for the price of one. Then he could sell Mr. Avail A. Bull for hamburger, use Betsy for breeding purposes and when that was done have her go back to being a milk cow. He didn’t want her inbreeding herself and producing deformed hideous looking mutated calves. No she would have to go. So next Monday morning he took her to the sale barn and she, not Mr. Avail A. Bull, became hamburger.

Moral of the story: Be cowful of what you ask for you might not live to regret it.