LAGOS (Reuters) - Nigerian police have arrested a cow that killed a bus driver who was urinating on a highway, a police spokesman said Thursday. The horned African cow, which was wandering stray in the Ojo district of Nigeria's biggest city Lagos, also injured several bystanders after killing the man.
"The cow went mad, ran into a bus driver, and knocked him down. Efforts to revive him were fruitless," said Lagos police spokesman Olubode Ojajuni.
Some people suggested the animal be shot, but the district police officer ordered it to be taken alive. "You know what it will take to arrest a mad cow?" one newspaper quoted a policeman as saying. "We applied ingenuity and arrested the cow, which is now being detained at the station."
I knew a killer cow, once. She was a mean, thin bovine, with wilting udders and a sagging, jaundiced stomach that hung from her frame like a teardrop. Her brown and white face was framed in a perpetual scowl, as though she had just squirted out sour milk, and her squinty eyes glared up at the world in an angry statement of defiance.
Of course, she was a professional killer. She wouldn't have anything to do with a random act of violence against a urinating bus driver. That was beneath her.
Her name was Blossom, and she worked for the CIA, back in the late eighties. They would dispatch her around the world, to unstable countries where our government thought we had a chance of influencing political thought. Usually, she would be airlifted to the hot area, and would make her way into town on hoof. She had an uncanny knack for getting the lay of the land, and also, making herself practically invisible. Or at least, as invisible as a jaundiced looking brown and white cow can get.
In her barn in Cambridge, MA, Blossom would be shown a black and white glossy of the political official that the government wanted wiped out. She's memorize every wrinkle and furrow on that politico's forehead, as she calmly stood, chewing her cud and slurping down water, so that, once dispatched, she'd be able to make her move, and hone in on his or her location.
And then, she'd wait. Usually she'd linger in the back of a government building, apparently leisurely chewing on strands of grass, but all the while keeping her big brown eyes trained on the best opportunity. That moment when the target would be exiting from their limousine, perhaps.
And, with a loud ear-shattering moo, she'd charge over, a cow enraged, and trample her victim to death.
Then, before anyone could take action, she'd charge through the city center, looking for the nearest meadow, so that she could blend in with the local farm animals. Once the dust had settled, usually in the dead of night, her partners in law enforcement would spirit her out of the country, and back to the farmhouse.
It all worked famously for years, until one unfortunate day, during the early days of the first Gulf war, when Blossom was dispatched to wipe out Sadaam...