I can't get Burns' poem 'To A Mouse', out of my head... It goes: Wee sleekit/couring/timerous beastie... Oh! What a panic in thy breastie! So much so, that I've tried to emulate his greatness by penning an epistle to that majestic animal, the cow, or coo! As we Scots like to call them... In the same vein, it goes: Big fat/ugly useless looking b.....d/ Oh! What a shudder in thy udder! That's as far as I've got, but I'm sure the second verse will have something to do with milk in it!
