A Robert Klein routine from years ago included him imitating an Indian accent and saying “cows are sacred in my country.” We had no idea they actually rule India. Now having traveled hundreds of miles along every kind of road and every kind of city and village we have seen cows absolutely everywhere. On the highways they are in queue and brazenly stroll right down the middle of the road while cars, trucks and motorbikes dodge them from all directions. On hillsides, in valleys, and in the desert, on every single street…cows. They brush by you as you pass. They meander from one pile of garbage to the next, always getting a small meal. We had no idea how they subsisted until a local villager explained to us: the Indian people care for the cows each day. There is a person hired by the government in each village to fill water troughs placed on city streets. Women in every household prepare breakfast for the cows before they feed their own family. Want a second helping of dinner? The cows get all the leftovers from every meal.
And again there is balance. The cows eat the garbage on the streets…newspapers, boxes, all of it. In exchange, they leave piles of, well, you know, which are picked up by the water trough guy and later made into building materials for village huts. The cows move slowly, at peace with their surrounding which is actually chaos swirling around them. You can’t help but giggle uncontrollably as they strut, chewing their cud, and daring the traffic to just try and move them out of the way. Oh, to be a cow in India.
gone'splorin 
those are bigger cows than in Vermont real sharp pictures THANKS