The philosophical cow

 

 I am the cow which at the gates of the slaughter house realises the absurdity of pastures.
Why was I munching, endlessly chewing the cud in those fields. Without ever thinking it would come to an end.  Why why why?

Ah well, they still have to herd me across this field, into the yard where I will clip clop my way to
the slaughter house gate. I still have a little time, No one can take that away from me.