"What's with this 'Human Pets' thing anyway?" she grumbled to Gramsci. "Who'd want to be a human pet?"
Gramsci looked up, startled. "Well, at least one person," he proffered. "According to reports, there was a recent incident where one was thrown off a London bus."
The Cow loomed over his shoulders and took a look. "Hmmm..." she mused. "She doesn't cook or clean, and claims to have an easy life. I suppose there's something to be said for that!"
"She lives on state benefits, too," Gramsci added. "Imagine filling out forms - Occupation: Pet! Wonder what the statisticians make of that when they interpret census data?"
The Cow chuckled. She could imagine the delight UK taxpayers felt in subsidising their compatriots' animal lifestyles.
"Well, some claim that the English treat their dogs better than their children," Gramsci reminded her. "And dogs are allowed to stay in UK hotels!"
The Cow shuffled awkwardly. She'd seen far too many dogs travelling in the cab of local bakkies, while the farm labourer sat on the back.
"Perhaps," she suggested, "if we valued humans more, aspiring to be a pet would be less alluring?"