One smart cow

The Cow Who Knew the Way Home

Today, I’m not writing about Paris or Rome.
I’m writing about somewhere far more rural — the heart of central France.

We’ve all heard stories of remarkably clever animals — Lassie, The Incredible Journey, or maybe our own pets who seem to know more than they should.
But none of them prepared me for this story.

It was told to me by a friend whose family has raised cattle for generations — and I mean generations.
In his region, if you mention his last name, someone will nod and say,

“Ah yes — I once bought a cow from them.”
This family knows cows.

One day, my friend’s father, Gabriel, bought a cow from his brother Jean.
He kept her for several years; all went well.
Eventually, he decided to sell her — back to Jean, the original owner.
(You can’t make this up.)

So Jean came on the appointed day to walk his cow the sixteen kilometres back to his own farm.
It was a good old-fashioned cattle transfer — on foot.

About halfway, Jean decided to stop for lunch — and, being French, a little wine.
He left the cow grazing peacefully outside the local café.
When he came back out — no one’s quite sure how much later — she was gone.

Jean wasn’t especially worried. He simply kept walking home.

And when he arrived — there she was.
Standing calmly in her old stall, waiting.
Five years gone, eight kilometres away, and she had found her way back.

Think about that.
Along the way she would have faced countless crossroads, turns, and distractions — yet somehow, she never hesitated. She just knew.

---

I used to think cows were… well, not the brightest of creatures.
Now I’m not so sure.

Maybe she remembered every path, every scent, every sound of home.
Or maybe it wasn’t memory at all.
She just kept walking — steady, certain, and sober.
Which, come to think of it, made her the cleverest one of all.