The Bovine Visitation

The bovine visitor

The bovine visitor

While washing dishes one day, I caught a glimpse of motion in the yard. “Is a chicken loose?” I wondered. “Or maybe the dog?”

Sherlock Holmes I ain’t. A further inspection revealed that neither chicken nor dog was responsible for my vision; instead, it was a bull who had apparently gotten bored and decided to go exploring.

A thousand pound bull wandering through one’s yard sounds disconcerting, but hey, this is life in the country; it was hardly the first bovine visitation I’d had.

Vaguely concerned about my garden, I put on my shoes and ambled outside. My dog Court was a perfect gentleman to his visitor, barely glancing at the bull before returning to a particularly intriguing smell in the brush.

The bull was, likewise, a perfect gentleman. He wandered toward the garden but didn’t bother it, contenting himself with sampling the brushy area next to it.

The bull kindly NOT eating my garden

The bull kindly NOT eating my garden

Eventually, he wandered to the pasture behind our house, where he munched contentedly with three cows (also escapees) who had already made their way back there.

He remained in the pasture until two of the neighbor boys showed up to drive the bovine culprits home. The cows went obligingly enough, but the bull enjoyed his freedom. For the next half hour, the boys futilely yelled and flailed; the bull’s only response was an occasional disdainful look in their direction.

Eventually, the big guns came out–literally. Up to this point, I’d been trying to surreptitiously spy on the drama from my kitchen window. I’d even contemplated attempting to sneak a photo of the desperate boys and their unmoving quarry, but I decided to respect their Amish culture and resist the temptation to take a picture, even a clandestine one.

Then one of the boys went home and returned with a rifle, aiming it squarely at the bull. I was horrified; as clearly disrespectful as this bull was, did he deserve the death penalty? And how would they drag this enormous beast out of my yard?

Fortunately, it apparently was just a BB gun, and it accomplished its mission. The bull grudgingly trudged back home, trailed by the triumphant boys.

Thus a whole lot of bull was banished from my life.

Until he plots his next escape, anyway.

The bull rejoins his lady friends.

The bull rejoins his lady friends.


  1. Makes me glad the scariest thing to wander into my garden is a big dog.

    1. I have to say, some dogs are a lot scarier than this bull was. I hope you only get the nice ones in your yard!

      Sent from my Verizon Wireless 4G LTE Tablet

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