It was ridiculous to believe, I understood that. No matter how absurd the notion, I couldn’t shake the foolish idea from my head. The cow was judging me. If, perhaps, the cow were actually a cow, this laughable suspicion would possibly cross the line from totally ludicrous to something that could conceivably teeter on the edge of amusing. As preposterous as the idea would seem to most, I knew that this cow shaped welcome sign stared at me, judging me, it’s condescending gaze a constant reminder that I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, to be sitting amongst the prestigious pigeon chasers of Emoclew Square.
This was my life, one man against the odds. From a young age, I’d told my father “When I grow up, dad… I’m gonna be the best pigeon chaser the world has ever seen!” I was foolish enough to believe my old man would support me through it all. I looked up at him, childish eyes filled with wonder and hope, awaiting the shower of encouragement he was surely going to bestow upon me.