Mootilda was a tan and white Guernsey who lived in the common area for milkers. Her stall was austere except for a strange white circle mounted on the wall. She smiled as Applejack and Twilight approached.
"Hay, Mootilda! Brought a friend with me today," said Applejack. Twilight Sparkle peeked out from behind AJ and smiled at the cow.
"Princess Twilight Sparkle! Such an honor," Mootilda said, bowing.
Twilight blushed. "I'm not that big of a deal," she said, "but a cannulated cow? Now that's something special! I've never had the chance to meet one before. I wasn't aware anypony did ruminant research in Ponyville."
Applejack chuckled. "Well, once in a blue Moon we might get a science-type pony in here, and once every year or two the Schoolhouse will do 'er on a field trip," she explained. "But Mootilda here has been cannulated primarily for practicality and such, by which I mean the health of the other livestock."
Twilight nodded as Applejack spoke, but didn't take her eyes off of Mootilda. "I hope it's okay if I watch?" she asked, her face rapt with wonder.
Mootilda smiled broadly. "Of course it is, Princess," she said.
"Please, just call me Twilight," said Twilight Sparkle. Mootilda nodded.
"To be honest, we ain't got no need for your rumen right now sugarcube. But Twilight really wanted to see you in action, if'n I may," said Applejack.
"My pleasure," said Mootilda. She turned to the side, and there it was: a large plastic ring set into her pelt around a black stopper, embedded just aft of her shoulder. The stopper was about twice the width of Applejack's hoof.
Applejack took a plastic sheath from a small box beside the wall and covered her right front leg with it. She pulled the stopper out of Mootilda's side. It made a soft popping sound.
"We like to be hygienic, but it don't get infected anyway," she explained. "Rumen's got so much probiotic there ain't no risk. I mean, that's kinda the point, and all."
Twilight watched as her friend reached her sheathed arm deep into Mootilda's body. The cow winced slightly.
"Doesn't that hurt?" asked Twilight, her brow furrowed.
"Oh, no, dearie, I'm fine! Just a little shy, that's all," said Mootilda.
Applejack pulled out her hoof. A small amount of liquid trailed her arm and spilled out the opening. In her hoof was a large green wad of partially-digested grass. She squeezed the wad out over a bucket, and a translucent greenish liquid squirted out.
"And that's all there is to it," said Applejack, and she tossed the grass to the floor. She gently cleaned the area under the hole with a soapy sponge and replaced the stopper.
"Incredible," said Twilight. This time it was Mootilda's turn to blush. Twilight walked forward to get a closer look at the stopper.
Applejack cleared her throat loudly to reclaim Twilight's attention. "I gotta get some chores done Twi, but feel free to chat up Mootilda all you like. She prolly knows more about her condition than me anyhow," said Applejack. With a tip of her hat, the farmpony trotted off.
Mootilda waited for Applejack to leave before she spoke. "I don't really know all that much, but I'm happy to answer any questions I can," she said cheerfully.
Twilight backed up to a comfortable speaking distance and stood to the side toward Mootilda's face. After a pause, the cow turned to face her guest. Twilight was looking curiously up at the white circle which was nailed to the post on the wall.
"That's your hide, isn't it?" Twilight suddenly realized.
"Why, yes! They let me keep it after the procedure," said Mootilda. "Sometimes, cattle who needed my rumen will stop by and leave marks on it to say thank you." There were numerous little marks etched into the hide. Mootilda had clearly helped many cattle survive illness.
"But the marks all look the same?" Twilight noticed. Each mark was an identical short line, much like a tally except without any cross-marks to make counting easier.
Mootilda smiled. "The circle isn't big enough for signatures, and which cattle are helped isn't really that important, is it?"
Twilight pursed her lips in thought. "I suppose not. I just would have expected something more personalized, so you could remember who you helped. I mean, assuming you know some of the cows."
"Goodness, yes, I know most of them. Not the ones who live outside of Ponyville, of course, but the locals," said Mootilda. "It's not really something we talk about much, though. I know they appreciate it, and they know I'm happy to help."
Twilight narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in thought. "You know, there's something about cannulation that's always bugged me," she said. "Everything I know about bovine anatomy tells me use of such a large cannula should hurt, but no cannulated cow or bull has ever complained of pain. I mean, that's why the procedure is done all over Equestria. Could you hold on for just a moment? I want to try something..."
Without waiting for permission, Twilight's horn glowed, and then the area around the stopper glowed. Mootilda looked nervous. The glow faded away, and Twilight's jaw dropped.
"Is... everything alright, Twilight Sparkle?" Mootilda asked, with a sheepish smile.
"Mootilda, you're in severe pain!" gasped Twilight.
A nervous grimace quickly settled over Mootilda's muzzle. "Shh! Twilight, please don't tell anypony!" she whispered. "Yes, it hurts, but it's nothing I can't tolerate."
"But why haven't you said anything?" asked Twilight, stunned. "We could give you something to block the pain when somepony needs to use the cannula!"
"To be honest, dearie, it hurts pretty much all the time. But as I said, it's fine! I can handle the pain," Mootilda insisted.
"You don't deserve to suffer like this," said Twilight, an obvious look of confusion on her face.
"To numb the pain for just one of us would require a steady supply of poppies," Mootilda pointed out.
"It's worth the cost, Mootilda!" said Twilight. "This is completely crazy."
"Twilight, please forgive my bluntness, but perhaps you don't understand because you aren't cattle," Mootilda explained. "We're people, yes, but we're not good with our hooves, and we're not good with animals. You ponies provide us with food, shelter, and everything we could possibly need. You ask so little in return."
"But this still doesn't make any sense," said Twilight. "Historically, every cannulated cow and bull has sworn the procedure doesn't hurt. Why would every cow and bull lie about the pain? I mean, surely one of you would have said something by now."
Mootilda paused in thought for a few moments. "Twilight, have you ever wondered why there isn't a singular word for cattle?" she finally asked.
"At least three times during this conversation alone," said Twilight. "It's admittedly weird to have to say 'cow or bull' every time I want to talk about one head of cattle. Why is that?"
Mootilda smiled serenely. "It's because there's no such thing."
