Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»­

Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Don't have a cow: Senator's legen-dairy speech draws metaphor from bovine caper

OTTAWA — Haven't you herd? A dramatic tale of 20 escaped cows, nine cowboys and a drone recently unfolded in St-Sévère, Que., and it behooved a Canadian senator to milk it for all it was worth.
20221125161140-6381366a68c95834bf9d943cjpeg
Cows on a dairy farm, in Saint-Henri-de-Taillon, Que., Tuesday, September 25, 2018. A herd of runaway cattle that has evaded capture for months has been wreaking havoc in farmers' fields near a small Quebec town. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jacques Boissinot

OTTAWA — Haven't you herd? A dramatic tale of 20 escaped cows, nine cowboys and a drone recently unfolded in St-Sévère, Que., and it behooved a Canadian senator to milk it for all it was worth.

Prompting priceless reactions of surprise from her colleagues, Sen. Julie Miville-Dechêne recounted the story of the bovine fugitives in the Senate chamber this week — and attempted to make a moo-ving point about politics.

"Honourable senators, usually, when we do tributes here, it is to recognize the achievements of our fellow citizens," Miville-Dechêne began in French, having chosen to wear a white blouse with black spots for the occasion.

"However, today, I want to express my amused admiration for a remarkably determined herd of cows."

On a day when senators paid tribute to a late Alberta pastor, the crash of a luxury steamer off the coast of Newfoundland in 1918 and environmental negotiators at the recent climate talks in Egypt, senators seated near Miville-Dechêne seemed udderly taken aback by the lighter fare — but there are no reports that they had beef with what she was saying.

Miville-Dechêne's storytelling touched on the highlights of the cows' evasion of authorities after a summer jailbreak — from their wont to jump fences like deer to a local official's entreaty that she would not go running after cattle in a dress and high heels.

The climax of her narrative came as nine cowboys — eight on horseback, one with a drone — arrived from the western festival in nearby St-Tite, Que., north of Trois-Rivières, and nearly nabbed the vagabonds before they fled through a cornfield.

"They are still on the run, hiding in the woods by day and grazing by night," said Miville-Dechêne, with a note of pride and perhaps a hint of fromage. 

She neglected to mention the reported costs of the twilight vandalism, which locals say has cost at least $20,000.

But Miville-Dechêne did save some of her praise for the humans in the story, congratulating the municipal general manager, Marie-Andrée Cadorette, for her "dogged determination," and commending the would-be wranglers for stepping up when every government department and police force in Quebec said there was nothing they could do. 

"There is a political lesson in there somewhere," said the former journalist.

Miville-Dechêne ended on what could perhaps be interpreted as a butchered metaphor about non-partisanship: "Finally, I would like to confess my unbridled admiration for these cows that have found freedom and are still out there, frolicking about. While we overcomplicate things, these cows are learning to jump fences."

This report by The Canadian Press was first published Nov. 26, 2022.

Marie-Danielle Smith, The Canadian Press