Meet bull #1. We’ll call him … Red Bull.
He seems to think the grass is greener on the other side.
This is Red Bull’s herd—registered Shorthorn ladies.
They’re my neighbors. Every year about this time, they graze the
pasture that borders our pasture. We get to enjoy the new babies.
This is bull #2. We’ll call him Angus. He is our eastern neighbor.
Every year about this time, he grazes in the pasture that borders ours.
Incidentally, it also borders Red Bull’s pasture—sort of a pasture intersection.
Ever wonder what happens when two fertile herds graze nose to nose?
Or two virile bulls manage fertile herds that graze nose to nose?
Well … it’s loud. It sounds like trumpeters in the valley. And growling.
Lots of low, angry mumbles and grumbles.
And standoffs.
Every once in awhile, they both approach the very hot electric fence,
stare deeply into the other’s eyes and paw the ground in fruitless anticipation.
Then they retreat. Only to beller and approach and back off, over and over.
So far, no one is brave enough to engage—the other bull or the electric fence.
But last year …
Let’s just say there’s a calf of a different color among the shorthorns.
I hope all conflicts can be resolved this year. It’ll take a good woman to
sort through all of the bull, but it looks like there’s one who is up for the job.
It’s ok dear, don’t let his B.S. get to you. You’ll always be my stud … in theory.
