The most placid of creatures: all they do is munch grass all day long then return to sleep and get milked in the morning (or slaughtered). But they never complain.
The only time I had ever seen a cow 'complain' (or, rather, a whole herd of cows 'complain') was when watching cowboy films when I was much, much younger – well over 50 years ago – when there was a 'staged' stampede in the Wild, Wild West. Not likely to happen here in little old England, in sleepy old Hereford – but it did! No, they were not my cows. I could hardly look after a herd of cattle on the few acres I owned – and even if I could I wouldn't have known how to anyway. My few acres were right next door to the hundreds of acres that belonged to my then brother-in-law. We got on very well, but I had neither the knowledge or experience to get involved in his business (running a very large farm) nor he in mine.
But I did on one memorable occasion
"What's that cow doing in our back garden Dad?" "I dunno, I'll give your uncle Mark a call (my ,next-door-neighbour brother-in-law/farmer) and see if it's one of his." And yep, it surely was. And not only that, a whole herd of them (he raised Hereford cattle for a living – the 'red and whites' that you see on old cowboy western films – 1 million of which were raised from one single Hereford bull and eight Hereford cows which were exported to the USA in the 1800's) had somehow escaped from one of his nearby fields. "There's a whole herd of them coming your way Jimmy, try and carole them till I get there." Carole them! How on earth was I supposed to do that!! They had forced their way through a fence (there must have been a 'gang leader' – and she was obviously the one who was in our back garden). So Mr know-it-all (know nothing) and eldest son Mike went outside and tried to carole this cantankerous gang leader of a cow. No chance. One look at us and she just barged through the hedge onto the lane and, bang on time, her herd caught up with her, with my brother-in-law in hot pursuit in his Landrover. "If they get further up the lane Jimmy, they'll spread out all over the place." Without another word, Mike and I ran up to the top of the lane (behind the hedge to avoid further panicking the cows) turned around at the top and – arms akimbo – herded them all back down. Want a part-time job Jimmy? No thanks! (But Mike did, and worked part-time for his uncle for the rest of that summer – though he spent most of his time knocking down cider apples (this was before mechanisation, that was introduced a few years late)rather than rounding up cows however!