To err is human. To moo bovine.
You have two cows. The government takes both, loses one while moving it to a farm in Puerto Rico and forgets to milk the other.
You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
You have two cows. They develop opposable thumbs and milk you.
You have two cows. They outvote you 2-1 to ban all meat and dairy products. You go bankrupt.
You have two cows. You create a website for them and advertise them in all magazines. You create a Cow City or Milk Town for them. You sell off their milk before the cows have even been milked to both legitimate and shady investors who hope to resell the non-existent milk for a 100% profit in two years’ time. You bring Tiger Woods to milk the cows first to attract attention.
Cap and Trade
You have two cows. The government develops a quota system that “limits the gas emissions from flatulent cows.” You sell your carbon allotment, not the milk.
You have two cows, that you revere. But they end up in Bangladesh as steaks. So you outlaw cattle exports, announce a cow-licensing system and issue cows with photo IDs. Unfortunately, many conclude that India can not stop this illegal moogration because “beef is very delicious.”
You have two cows. You dissect them both and figure out how to build a milk-factory instead.
You have two cows. You patent “cow” and claim license fees from all the milk of the world. (“All your milk are belong to us.”)
You have two cows. You sell both to the rich. The government then taxes the rich one cow and gives it to the poor.
Go away. What I do with my cows is none of your business.
You are associated with (the concept of “ownership” is a symbol of the phallocentric, warmongering, intolerant past) two differently aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of nonspecified gender.
How many cows do I have? Why?
This cow is a heifer. You can help Wikipedia by milking it.
You have two cows.
John Paulson borrows one cow so he can sell it for $100. He gives you $10 as collateral.
You buy your neighbors cow for $100, which you finance by taking out a $90 loan from the bank and use John’s $10 to make up the rest.
You brag to everyone about your financial health. You have assets–two cows you own, plus one Paulson owes you–worth $300, and liabilities of just $100.
A third of the country goes vegetarian.
You thought your two cows were worth $200 and now they are worth $140.
You express confidence in your financial health. Your assets are now worth only $200–your two cows plus the one John owes you–but your liabilities are still only $100. If necessary, you could sell the assets at this distressed price and pay off all your loans.
You hold onto your cows because you are sure the market is “dislocated.” Some day someone will want to eat beef again.
The rest of the country goes vegetarian. Your two cows are now worth $2 each to guys who want to make dog food.
John Paulson buys a cow in the market for $2 and he gives it to you as repayment of the loan. You now have three cows worth six bucks.
John wants his $10 back.
The bank calls. It wants its $90 back.
You call the Federal Reserve and ask for a bailout.