Hilo’s Cow Cuddle Cult (Hawaii)
You Say “Cult” Like It’s a Bad Thing…
I’ve watched enough cult documentaries on Netflix to know the red flags. I’ve sworn, more than once, that I could never be lured into a cult. I mean, please. I know better.
And yet—I walked right into one. Willingly. Smiling. Begging them to take my money.
The Krishna Cow Sanctuary Cow Cuddle Cult.
Yes, that kind of cult.
The Krishna Cow Sanctuary, tucked into the lush hills near Hilo on the Big Island of Hawaii, offers cow cuddle therapy seven days a week. You can even book a private session—because maybe you’re not emotionally ready to share your bovine bonding with strangers. I get it.
The cows? They’re basically 1,200-pound puppies. Gentle, affectionate, deeply soulful. The hour we spent snuggled up to them passed in a blur of nose kisses, soft fur, and warm cow breath. It felt more like a dream than a therapy session.
According to the sanctuary’s site, they care for over 200 rescued cows across 14+ pastures on the Big Island. No animals are ever sold or slaughtered. Lactating mothers are hand-milked—with their calves nursing right alongside them. We met a blind baby calf being bottle-fed by volunteers. Every single animal we encountered was clean, healthy, and clearly adored.
The sanctuary follows the Vedic philosophy of Bhakti Yoga, rooted in the teachings of A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. Their mission is spiritual, compassionate, and, yes, just a little bit enchanting.
Remember that episode of Portlandia where Fred and Carrie accidentally join a cult just because they wanted to order chicken—and by the end, they’re both married to Jason Sudeikis? If you haven’t seen it, pause here and go watch it. Seriously.
That’s basically what happened to me. One minute I’m hugging a cow, the next I’m fully emotionally entangled with the matriarch of the herd, quietly weeping into her side. It’s fine. I’m fine. This is all fine.
Calling it a cult is a joke—but also, maybe not?
Cow cuddle therapy is spiritual. It sneaks up on you. You think you’re there for a fun photo op, but then a giant, velvet-eyed creature breathes gently on your face and suddenly your soul feels seen. It’s humbling. It’s healing. It’s weirdly transcendent.
And yes, I laughed at myself. I thought: You’re literally in a field of cows crying, you absolute Portlandia cliché. But honestly? I’d join the Cow Cuddle Cult again in a heartbeat.
They were gentle. They were kind. And we all walked away feeling a little more loved.
What can I say?
I love animals. And sometimes the cult finds you.
The best bite
On Sunday, we were craving brunch, and Vibe Cafe kept popping up across multiple “must-visit” lists. When we pulled up, the parking lot was nearly empty—which felt suspicious for a Sunday morning. But as it turns out, we were just lucky it was a rainy morning. The moment we stepped in, it was clear we had found something special. The whole space looked like it had been designed by a queer garden fairy with a Pinterest board full of pink dreams.
Vintage pink tropical wallpaper, hanging plants, and golden bee details surrounded us. I was seated—divinely, I might add—in the princess chair, a rattan canopy chair fit for maximum main-character energy. I sipped a unicorn latte (yes, it had pink sparkles) and bit into a gluten-free pink waffle that tasted like joy and summertime magic.
By the time we finished, the place was buzzing—every table full, and the air electric with clinking glasses and laughter. Vibe Café had gone from sleepy hideaway to full brunch crush within the hour.
It’s the kind of place I wish existed in my neighborhood: welcoming, whimsical, and just a little bit magical. On the way out, I smiled at the subtle signals of queer belonging—Subarus with rainbow bumper stickers flanking my car, and a bathroom sign that offered quiet, inclusive warmth with a nod to the trans community.
The Momente
To fully embrace my time in the cow cuddle puddle, I came prepared—serving lewks in a fabulous jumpsuit by Lesley Evers. The midweight denim struck the perfect balance: structured enough for style, soft enough to sit cross-legged in the grass while snuggling a 1,200-pound cow. I paired it with a whimsical pop of color: purple moth earrings by Nicoletta Carlone, which fluttered at my ears like tiny symbols of transformation. Fashion and farm therapy? A surprisingly natural combo.
For Sunday brunch, I shifted into something a little softer but no less special: a hand-painted silk scarf by SilkScarvesTakuyo, an artisan based in Lihue, Hawaii, who sells through Etsy. I’ve collected several of their pieces over the years, and every one feels like wearable art. The brushstrokes, the color, the care—it’s the kind of accessory that turns heads and lifts spirits.
✨ Treat yourself to something beautiful. Life’s too short for bland outfits. https://www.etsy.com/shop/SilkScarvesTakuyo
