12/09/10: The Rebirth of Moo

The day of my arrival into the world!

Previously, I had been held physically and mentally captive in the evil clutches of the “Best of Scottish” gift shop clerks. Surrounded by my equally ever-suffering kin, scattered items of tourist interest and scraps of tartan from various clans, I had little to live for. If not for the distant smell of freshly rained-on highland grass that could have been real or imagined, I may not have been here on this fateful day. The day my true destiny- to travel the world, encountering adventures of all kinds and finding my inner self- began.

Let’s set the scene. Edinburgh; the Summer of 2010. A “quaint” “Scottish” souvenir store, nestled into the bustle that is the Royal Mile. Me and my fellow “cuddly coos” nestled together for warmth and safety, on our threadbare shelf, 4th from the top. How was I to know that this day, beginning like any other, would become a day of such unfathomable significance in my previously mundane life? I wasn’t- let me tell you! But first, before I begin the tale of my Rebirth, let me tell you a small amount about myself.

My name is Moo. Or at least it is now that someone has bothered to grace me with my own title. I am one of Scotland’s most renowned and revered animals: the Highland Cow (pronounced Haighland Coo in Scots-speak of course). I wish I could tell you my age, but to be honest, I am not too sure. Time before my Rebirth seemed to have no beginning to me, and I thought it would have no end. Thankfully, I have left that behind me now. My former life can hardly be called living, so I doubt I would celebrate the day it began if I knew it anyway.

On to my tale! On this uncharacteristically sunny Scottish day, at approximately 1430 hours, I met my true family. In the interest of anonymity, I cannot of course, tell you too much about them but I can say that I am now a proud member of the Brown clan. I am yet to procure a sample of our clan tartan, as it is a wee bit harder to find than those of the more well known clans, but I would surely love to deck myself out in our traditional family attire. It is something I hope to achieve before we leave Scotland in the coming days. For now, please enjoy the background, consisting of the Brown Clan tartan. It's all I have.

One particular member of this small branch of the Brown clan (there are four of us in total on our wee trip but I am told there are many more family members and friends for me to meet back home- but that’s a story yet to begin of course) took particular interest in me and insisted I became part of the family. She is quite taken with the “peculiar appearance” of the Highland Cows (her opinion, not at all reflecting my own- walking on two feet? Now THAT’S peculiar). Differences of opinion aside, we hit it off and I’m glad to say we have become inseparable in a matter of days.

Finally I could feel the Scottish wind in my fur! I was free. It’s a joy I wish I could describe but words just can’t do justice to moments like that. I spent my first day like any giddy escapee- pleasure from the simplest of life’s offerings and all that. Not only did I have the chance of tasting my first real meal but I got a real treat in my first pint of Strongbow cider. It’s sure to be a lifelong favourite. The day of my Rebirth coincided with a parade of some 250 horses down the Royal Mile. The sight of their wind-swept manes cemented my instinct that the Brown Clan was the family for me- a trip around UK, Ireland and Europe ahead of me, is the freedom I couldn’t even imagine before. After the trip, I’ll be living permanently in Sydney, Australia. I’m told the cows there have short fur! I am however, sure that someday I’ll set my sights to the horizon, in search of another strange land to discover.

But for now, my adventure is just beginning

Ever wandering, never lost
-Moo