Saturday evening, after our glorious day in Edmond surrounded by beautiful and affluent city-dwellers...bankers, educators, accountants....you know....people who don't have to scrape manure off their boots before entering their back doors, we returned home to find our new homesteaders grazing peacefully in the deer plot. Our new strategy was to chase them down in the 4-wheeler Cadet and push them down the trail from whence they came. Sort of a modern-day, motorized cattle drive. We revved up the Cadet and Neal opened her up as we sped what seemed like 70 mph, straight for the bulls. The bulls were slow to catch on and Neal had to slam on the brakes to keep from running smack dab into the stationary bovines. They finally got the hint and high-tailed it West. I managed to snap a few photos as we bounced along the bumpy terrain, around the pond, through limbs smacking me in the face.
This is Mr. Blackbull
We call this one Red Bull
(does that mean he has more ENERGY?)
Stubborn fellas.
They finally headed down the trail, after trying to split up and outwit us several times. But this morning, we woke up to find them in the barn lean-to, Red Bull enjoying the salt lick, and Mr. Blackbull bedded down.
This is Mr. Blackbull
We call this one Red Bull
Stubborn fellas.
2 comments:
Did you ever think that maybe the people that ended up with George in their yard found a way to get back at you?
This is bullshift!!!! I never heard tell of such a thing. Looks like an invitation for a prime rib dinner!
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