I guess if you are taking stock you might cow-culate Yvonne's escape as a dairying break for freedom. But I suspect it was simply inescapable. Like the 1957 accident on a Brazilian experimental farm, when a weekend janitor left a hive open and an African queen bee buzzed off, eventually some placid bovine was bound to have a random close en-cow-ter with a fence. So when electrifying freedom came to a six year old Gurnsey named Yvonne, northwest of the tiny German village of Zangberg, Bavaria, nobody should have had a cow. But having blundered away from the ranch, the bovine broad proceeded to milk her brazen escape for all it was worth.
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Yvonne the German Cow: is away to sleep now in the nice forest, with a comfy bed made of old editions of Moos Of The World
Yvonne on Facebook
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Have you herd about Yvonne? She has her own facebook page and 24,000 friends. It says she was born on April 1st, 2005, in Austria. But she was not content there. The humans who owned Yvonne were cheesed off she was so moo-dy and spoilt. They were hoping she would ruminate on her mad cow ways. But when even muoo-udder-hood failed to make Yvonne cuddly, they leather go, selling the 'Problemkuh” (problem cow) in March of 2011 to a German farmer named Wolfgang (below). He explained to the magazine Bild, “She was a very nervous cow, so I sold her.” But first he fattened her up to about half a ton of beef steak.
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"Yvonnes parting words for this evening "Cow-nt your blessings every day".....I do }:-)~"
Yvonne on Facebook
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Three days past her sale-by date, on the afternoon of May 24, 2011, as she was being loaded on the truck for her final journey to the slaughter house, Yvonne did something for herself, if only by accident. She bull-ied her way through an 8,000 volt electric fence, and n-heifer looked back. Now, from a human perspective, what a cow lacks is a moo-ving insight that all cows are, beneath the hide, a band of udders. But that is not the whey of cows. And sadly, Yvonne is no cheese whiz. If there was a hidden truth laid bare here, Yvonne just sort of stepped in it.
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"Female cow, lost and lonely, seeks bull companion for romantic liaison and adventures. Great set of teats (128DDDD)"
Yvonne on Facebook
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Gone missing, Yvonne did not make it onto any milk cartons. Rather, she en-cow-tered a road, and everything in her experience told her to follow that concrete cow path of least resistence to a reward. But outside of Hay-dom, roads have purposes unknown in the bovine ethos. And in following that road after dark, Yvonne was almost hit by a cop car. In the police officers' view the great brown broad side flashed across their headlights in a flash, forcing them to swerve. In their view it was a blood curdiling experience. In Yvonne's view, it was one more betrayal of trust. Yvonne was suddenly a bovine Patty Herd-est, once the innocent victim, now the fleeing felon. If she'd had a voice Yvonne might have echoed the average human twelve year old, forcing back tears and crying in the dark, “This is bull sh-t!” It was then that Yvonne left the road and made her own whey.
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Personal Interests: Escaping, chewing, breaking wind, hiding, moooooing.
Yvonne on Facebook
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The cops put out a contract on the grazy cow, labeling her a road hazard. Hunters were offically authorized to execute the leather covered speed bump, in the name of public safety. But Yvonne was saved by the wettest summer in recent years, which made cow hunting too damp to be sporting. And Yvonne fell in with a herd of deer who by example, began her transistion from domesticated dumb beast to a curd-ish revolutionary, or as the Sueddeutsche Zeitung described her, a freedom fighter for “the animal-loving republic”.
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“We only hope for the best for the cow,”
'Mühldorf district spokeswoman
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Our free range heifer was now assisted by another freak of nature, a German Hindu vegan activist and publicty hound named Michael Aufhauser (above). Michael horned in on the situation by first buying Yvonne in absentia for six hundred Euroes. That gave him standing in the Bavarian courts, allowing him to seek a sixty day injunction to stop the hunt – and, holy cow, it was granted. This wealthy vegetarian then sent a hunter out in his stocking feet (to avoid making too much noise) armed with a tranquilizing dart gun. Once doped up, Yvonne would be served up at “Gut Aiberbichl” or “Well Aiberbichl”, Michael's animal farm, where she would pasturize for the rest of her days in religious safety.
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I heard about that new “Planet of the Apes” film and was inspired. It’s hard wielding tools with hoofs, though.”
Yvonne on Facebook
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But Yvonne had udder ideas. She must have sensed that what had been done to her was done soley for the convienence of humans. And she thought she was not well done. Yvonne was a rare German burger, indeed. She was still drawn to humans, as proven by a local grand-moo-ther who spotted cow paddies in her backyard. A veterinarian who examined the fee-cow matter, dubbed Yvonne to be healthy. The magazine Bild now offered ten thousand euros for a peaceful end to the Great Escape.
And inspired by this capitalist approach, the grand-moo-ther's 11 year old grandson Sepp, went charging into the underbrush, getting close enough to snap a photo of the cow girl (below). A few evenings later the hunter, Hans Wintersteller, came face to face with Yvonne. As detailed by Der Speigel, “She appeared out of the mist, and stared him straight in the eyes. She walked off before he could fire a dart at her. He reported that she now looks more like a buffalo than a cow, and has evidently turned into a wild animal in her months on the run.” How many buffaloes Hans has observed in Bavaria was not explained.
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"Yvonne knows exactly what she's doing, and she's tricking us.”
Michael Aufhauser
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Michael contacted a Swiss “psychic cow whisperer”, Franziska Matti, who remotely “spoke” with Yvonne, and was told “she was fine but didn't feel ready to come out of hiding,” Perhaps, growing frustraited with this bull-oni, Michael contacted the Swiss farmer who had raised Yvonne, and bought her sister, Waltraud, and her calf Waldi. Both were transported to Bavaria, and left spinning their veals ovenight in a forest pen (above).
The next morning hoof prints and some moo-cus indicated Yovonne had stopped by to say hay, but by dawn she had hoofed it back into the 3 ½ hectacre wood. Then Michael steaked out the adora-bull Ernst, “the George Clooney of cattle”. Michael was certain that Yvonne would be drawn to his “sonoroous baritone” (below). But somehow Yvonne was tipped to Ernst actually being a Bull-dozer, having previously gotten the Ox and been fixed. Eventually this un-tempting pseudo-Taurus was sent packing.
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“Looking to build herd, own the forest and relax on our comfy (non-leather) sofas together sharing cow lick and snacking on dairy nuts.”
Yvonne on Facebook
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During the August news drought, Michael sent in a helicopter armed with an infared tracking device. They failed to find anything but more headlines. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, the humans decided to try sanity. First, the hunter Hans Wintersteller announced, “‘We have asked all helpers to leave the forest.” Then Bavarian authorities permanently lifted the execution order. They e-mailed Der Speigel “As the animal no longer constitutes an acute threat to road traffic in its current location, no major search or capture operations are necessary. The Mühldorf district office requests that the animal not be disturbed in its current habitat.” Human logic seems to be, that starved for food, the press would moo-ve on to other stories.
But as August chewed its way into September, something changed for Yvonne. Maybe her dear friends the deer got ticked off at her. Maybe she wearied of being a maverick Perhaps she thought, like Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape", that the last fence she jumped was a border to even more freedom. As you get older domesticity can feel like that. The Meuhldorf council suggested "she apparently go tired of the lonelyness", and that may be closer to the truth. But whatever her moo-tivations, on the first of September Yvonne jumped another fence and rejoined a herd, this one of four calfs. And perhaps the venison quartet reminded Yvonne of her own lost youth, when she still had calves and her breasts did not hang so udderly low. We will never know, since Yvonne is not talking. But we do know she had a beef with the veternarian who tranquilized her for her ride to her new home in a sanctuary. She knocked him on his butt. Let that be her final stampede. She is set now for a contended and safe old age, and I do not expect to hear anymore about her. From this day forward, no moos about Yvonne is good moos.
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You may e-mail your message to Yvonne, what heifer it may be, to pulltheudderone@Yvonnethecow.com
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