The Tears of A Cow

I am a cow and I live in a zoo. People are not interested in me. They are interested in the monkeys and the penguins. They are also interested in the elephants and giraffes. They are not interested in me. I am just a cow and no one cares.
They don’t even bother putting me in a cage. All I have is a two foot high fence. The fence is what makes me an attraction. If I didn’t have the fence I’d just be a cow on some grass. The fence is there to suggest I am not just a cow- I am an exotic zoo animal. But the fence is fooling no one.
People do not crowd around my enclosure. They don’t take photographs of me. Everyone has seen a cow before. Occasionally someone will say “There’s a cow over there” but then they walk off.
I don’t know why I am even here. I suppose they didn’t have enough animals and I am just making up the numbers.
Often people are angered by my presence. “Why is there a cow here? We can see cows anytime. How endangered are they? Where are the fucking cheetahs?”. I swish my tail and pretend not to hear.
People boo me. They say “boo!” and laugh because it sounds like “moo”. They think they are being witty but they are not.
Sometimes they throw things. Cans, pebbles. At my head.
I have vowed to myself that the next time some joker throws a can at my head or boos me I will kill them. I’ll charge at the fence and tear it down. I’ll stamp on them and all their ugly little friends- killing them dead. How boring will I be then? How run of the mill, how unremarkable, how ordinary, how mundane? If it’s danger they want I’ll bring it. I’ll bring it and they’ll be really fucking sorry.