In the oldest tale passed down to us in a near-complete form, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the main character Gilgamesh spurns the advances of the goddess Ishtar (Inanna in the Akkadian version). Angered, the goddess goes to her father Anu. She threatens to raise the dead to eat the living if her father does not deal with Gilgamesh, and his companion Enkidu. Anu sends the Bull of Heaven to fight the pair; Gilgamesh, through skill and cunning, defeats he bull, and taunts Ishtar by throwing its hind leg at her. Anu then sentences Enkidu to death (why he does not sentence Gilgamesh in the same way is unclear). Thereafter, the Bull of Heaven became the constellation we now know as Taurus. The importance of the Bull in the Gilgamesh narrative – this scene sets up most of the action for his subsequent exploits – reflects the centrality of cattle in Mesopotamian societies. Cattle in Sumer were not generally bred for milk. In the hot climate of the region, milk spoiled quickly. The Mesopotamians were famous for their cheese and butter, but milk itself was reserved for infants and the gods. Instead, cattle were mostly kept as beasts of burden. This importance is reflected in their relative price: a slightly later Old Babylonian text from the region indicates that a milk cow was sold for 7 1/2 shekels, whereas a draft ox sold for 12. And, of course, cattle were kept for meat and – perhaps most importantly – as sacrifices.

This sacrificial use of cattle also led to their use as an economic medium of exchange. High value purchases would be reckoned in a number of cattle, even where cattle were not going to literally form the other end of the bargain: for example, one might sell a 10-cattle house for 10 cattle’s worth of cheese. The centrality of cattle to Sumerian life was reflected in the prominence they held in Mesopotamian religious art. One of the most enduring images, of the man-bull hybrid Lamassu, survived for thousands of years, becoming a significant visual icon in successive generations of Near Eastern art, up until the conquest by Alexander the Great. Cattle also became synonymous with motherhood. In the Temple of Ninhursag at Tell al-Ubaid, a famous scene shows the milking of cattle in the presence of their calves. This may reflect the practice of collecting the especially rich ‘first milk’ (colostrum) which was shared between the cow’s calves and the family’s human infant. It is perhaps for this reason that this figure of a calf was carved. Seated on the ground, his legs curled up under him, the calf turns his head towards the viewer. He has the nubs of horns on his head, which indicates both his age and gender. His body shows hints of the musculature he will achieve as he grows, but retains the chubbiness of infancy. His face is serene, with languid almond-shaped eyes, short ears, and a delicately carved muzzle. His flaring nostrils are outlined with semi-spirals.

The depiction of a calf in Sumerian art may have a number of meanings. Certainly, it may simply be a reflection of the economic and social importance of cattle; artists often choose things that are important to themselves and their people for a subject. But, since most ancient art had a religious or political meaning, we may push this analysis further. The goddess Ninsun was considered the ‘lady of the wild cows’ (nin-sumun), and in fact, all the goddesses of the Mesopotamian pantheon were considered to have a bovine aspect. Ninsun was closely associated with motherhood, reproduction, and pastoralism. A calf, then, would be a good votive offering to her. In the complex genealogies of the Mesopotamian gods and demigods, Ninsun was usually referred to as the mother of Gilgamesh. Perhaps, then, an artist might choose to depict the demigod as a calf, in an act of playfulness, given the role of the Bull of Heaven in Gilgamesh’ own tale.