Great news, I got my cow a gig as a catwalk model, modelling the winter collection for Miss Bovine. She is quite nervous and I had to follow her on with a shovel, but the audience went wild for her and she was an instant hit. She's already done several TV shows and is the cover star of this month's What Cow? magazine. She's also been offered a tidy sum for her autobiography, which is being ghost-written by two pigs and a squirrel, and there's also been some interest in a film adaptation and a possible West End musical.
The bad news, however, is that she now has new management. The ingratitude! To think, when I first met that cow - yesterday - she was an ugly, ungainly, talentless nobody. Slap a bit of lipstick on her and teach her to walk without falling over, and suddenly she's Greta Bloody Garbo, and I'm out on my ear. Well screw you, Ermantrude! All I can say is, enjoy it while it lasts, because it's a fickle business and this time next year you're going to be steak.
Well, I've created one star, so I figured I could do it again. I found a weasel with striking bone structure and trained him up to be a matinee idol, but the only work he could get was an advert for odour eaters, and now he's working in a shoe shop. I also found a goose that could do impressions, but he was booed off the stage at his first audition, lost his temper and savaged the compere.
Who am I kidding? A real star like that cow only comes along once in a lifetime. It looks like I'm going to have to turn my hand to something else.