Meet 611. Or as I affectionately call him, six eleven. No ear tags for him, trying something like that is just dumb. Make the mark once and make it forever...and so it is, 611 freeze branded on the side of this big boy.
This is the "herd bull" out at the farm and well, frankly, he scares the crap out of me. He's on light duty, up at the barn, until August so I just don't have to see him up close or personal for a long time.
Last week, when we were separating him from his herd, I got to add cowboy and cattleman to the training syllabus. I was riding shot gun on the mule (remember, it's a 4 wheel vehicle) and Craig was driving. I don't know that I can share the whole experience in words but it was wild and it was fast and it was furious.
At one point, Craig cackled out "notice how I keep him on your side?" yeah! no sh*t. lmbo. He snorted (the bull) and started to charge and we were done with the laughing. Back to hollering and getting him to turn to the barn.
I'm pleased to report that no townies were injured in the filming of this chapter and six eleven finally headed for the barn.
I thought we were finished. go ahead, you can laugh.
Six eleven was with a handful of other cows up by the barn and I didn't give them much thought. They were notably smaller than six eleven and well, just not doing much. Nickie (the farm's first daughter) was walking down (out of sight) to shut the gate, Craig was fussing with everyone up near the barn and I was somewhere in the middle.
Suddenly f-bombs started falling from the sky and exploding all over the place and Craig was giving chase to a brown and white cow that was making a break away. Suddenly, I was very much aware that I was the only thing standing between a lovely day and a crap day.
I jumped from that rail, arms outstretched in my very best herding pose, while yelling "Yah! Yah!" I took that brown and white square, it didn't break pace but circled hard right and headed right back up the hill.
Craig smiled, shook his head, and said something like "I'll be god-dammed" and declared several times throughout the rest of the day, "your family is gonna quit you because you are crazy."
I didn't fully get that until later, when I learned that I'd just jumped in front of a bull. Not a mature six eleven bull, but still a bull.
Here he is, lounging by the fence. See how I thought he was "just" a cow? Not nearly the mass of six eleven.
It'll take more than this to make me certifiable. Or so I've been telling myself.