Bull-ogna!

Over the last few months I have had the opportunity to fully experience the destructive nature of high testosterone levels rearing havoc on our 40 acres. His name is...."Nutcracker". Why?...because when he was two months old he almost dismembered my Husbands goods with one swift head but between his legs. In April 2008 William brought home two Angus calves abandoned by their mothers in a wild fire East of us. Annie and Nutcracker were my first bottle calves to be raised at our new place. We just call him Bull.

Now he is 3, and since all my cows are currently bred and he feels he has no use of existence, he is finding ways of testing my patience. Most mornings when he sees me approaching, he lets out a grunt of sorts. Lately it's been a full fledged holler at the top of his lungs, followed by a curl of his nose and a snort that sends snot flying. I can't help but laugh, shake my head and tell him how ridiculous he sounds.

Lately, when I put the oxen and bull out to pasture in the mornings he literally uses his head to break the ice off the top of the 100 gallon tank. (Yes, it actually gets below freezing at night here in Ok.) He takes great pride in this accomplishment. One recent morning the ice was a bit too thick and as I went to retrieve a hammer to help him out, he decided that while I was gone he wasn't going to wait. I came back to find the stock tank broken from the water hose, completely tipped upside down and being hurled at a rapid speed down into the center of the 10 acre field by the bull himself, with the oxen cheering him on all the way. I was not pleased.

Upon other things, he has single handedly destroyed a 10x12 dog kennel that was sitting behind the barn. (That was not so much fun to put back together), bent the metal water line leading to the water tub, and he keeps busting the pipe fencing out from between the metal pipe fence posts.  He trims the trees, stirs my compost (but first he had to completely dismantle the pallet walls, which took me a good day to set up and build.), and he keeps Will's welding skills on a monthly demand as he is always breaking something from all the roughhousing. Did I mention he managed to knock my 4 year old mare, Dixie, completely over on her back and push her under the barbed wire fencing. Thank the Lord, she stayed still until we got there to cut the wires. She was very patient, and that was a blessing. Most horses freak out in situations like that and make it worse. We didn't put the two in the same pasture after that.

He seems to enjoy parading himself around the pasture as head honcho around here. Maybe that's why we don't see eye to eye. He teases the oxen, which are two castrated bulls, and rubs in their face the fact that they just don't 'have what it takes' anymore. I often find them chasing each other around the field and then the bull will actually lay down to fight with them, since they are half his size. One of my oxen, Duke, has a love affair with him. It's ridiculous and hilarious at the same time.

I do have a healthy fear of him. I respect him and his space by never turning my back and always have an escape route planned. Bulls are unpredictable - always. My Grandfather was almost killed by one. He will be able to spend the summer breeding the cows again after they calve this spring and then this fall he will probably go to the B.S. (Butcher Shop).... to become Bull-ogna....