The Moral of the Story

The moral of the story is obvious. Or it should be, at any rate. And in this case there was no exception to that universal rule of nature.

It goes something along the lines of "Someone that lands you in the sh1t isn't necessarily your enemy, and someone who gets you out of it isn't necessarily your friend".

Now it would be silly to suggest that the cow could save him by a large deposit of manure or that a large cat would suddenly escape from the nearest zoo - Antrim about 65 miles away - or maybe the Celtic tiger from Phoenix Park zoo in Dublin only 10 miles further might show up. Though that may be more palatable given that the Celtic tiger has certainly vanished or more likely shrank back to the anonymity of an under nourished tabby cat.

When he opened his eyes Bob swore profusely never to drink again as he swayed up and down and round and about. He knew he was in some trouble - his head hurt like hell and he cursed the two hairy cavemen he always blamed for fighting each time he had a monstrous hangover; except as he slowly regained his senses, partially at least, it was soon clear to him that it was less a case of a hang over and more a case of being over hung from a large tree confined to a bovine torture as cows heads revealed themselves to him intermittently. A new form of water torture he reckoned.