Teenagers

Hubby just recently moved six young bulls to the field next to the house in hopes of enticing a passing farmer to buy them for their lonely heifers at home.   A field full of young bulls is a lot like having a locker room full of teenage boys, there is always some scuffling, shoving, pushing, teasing, and general rough-housing going on.  This group was no exception and immediately set about establishing who was the BBIF (big bull in field).  If one went to drink another would decide that he needed to drink first, resulting in a head butting contest over the waterer.  When the feed was poured into the trough it was like trying to feed a table full of teenage boys, with each grabbing as hard as they could in case the others got more.  In fact, teenage bulls and teenage boys are a lot alike.

The first night they were in the field we awoke to bulls standing in the yard.  It seems that during the night they had decided to have a scuffling contest next to the fence and pushed a section of planks out into the drive.  So, before anything else could be done we had to collect up the truant teens and herd them back into the field.  A couple of gates provided a quick patch job for the fence until replacement planks could be obtained.  Since our yard and the hay field in front are not fenced we were lucky that they decided to munch on flowers instead of wandering off.

They seemed to have settled down since then and we haven't had further drama, but knowing teenagers, we've still kept a watchful eye on them.  Friday night we decided at the last minute to go out to eat with a neighbor.  We rolled over the hill to pick them up when hubby commented,"I don't see the bulls."  "Oh, they're probably in the trees and you just don't see them.", I airily replied.  "Maybe", he grunted but after picking up our neighbors he decided to take another turn up the drive and check on them again.  Sure enough, the gate was open and the bulls were gone. (No one admits it but I suspect the last one to feed didn't latch the gate!  Guess who?)

As teens everywhere will, they had seized the opportunity for a little extra freedom.  We found them in the corner of the hay field looking hopefully at the heifers in the next field.  Thank goodness everyone in a rural county usually has some experience with farm animals.  We all baled out of the pick-up like circus clowns.  The two men took off to collect the bulls, the neighbor's wife climbed into the cab of the truck to turn it around and follow, and I took off running to put the dog up (the fool dog has never figured out that there is a time to shut up and be still) and run to open the gate back up for the bulls.

Like the teenagers they were they came running around the corner of the yard, kicking up their heels, bucking and jumping.  We all stood there and watched, knowing that it wasn't their best plan.  Sure enough they hit the blacktop and started sliding and scooting.  Soon they had all jammed into the gateway in a tangle of legs and bodies and popped through like corks.  Picking themselves up they shrugged and nonchalantly strode off as though they had planned the whole thing. 

Beware!  Accepting an invitation to go out to eat with us is never dull!