The Tale of Two Bulls  

VTLakesideVixen 60F
185 posts
8/11/2006 5:13 am

Last Read:
8/12/2006 9:37 am

The Tale of Two Bulls

Well its happened again--this time it's Economickrisis' fault! Stopped by to read his latest post"A load of bull" at economickrisis and before I knew what was happening I had a post for my blog! Thank you Economickrisis for jogging my memory!
I haven't laughed so hard, at a memory of my childhood, in a long time!

My Grandfather at the time had this tremendously large bull that he kept for breeding the cows--anyways, one weekend we came down to visit my Grandparents and being a curious 9 year old I went down to the barn to see what milking cows was all about. Six feet into the barn I virtually came nose to nose with this bull! I was frozen on the spot with fear--I never heard my Mother calling to me, trying to get me to move out from in front of this monstrous bull.
My soon to be Uncle saw the peril in my position so next thing I knew I had been snatched up from in front of bull and was promptly deposited on his back. If you thought I was scared before, it was nothing to what I felt now. I was convinced that I would be thrown off and trampled to death--so all I could do was pray that I didn't pee my pants and scream for my Mother to rescue me--which she promptly proceeded to do. For the rest of time that it took to finish milking the cows I never was more than six inches from my Mother's side! Of course, I caught the very devil from my Grandfather for upsetting his cows with all my screaming during milking time.

The other time a bull and I crossed paths turned out to be hilarious. On my way down to check mail for my Grandmother at the end of long gravel driveway I had to pass by the barn. This barn had a small fenced in holding yard for the cows to wait in until they had all been milked so that you could walk all the cows across the road to the pasture for the night. By this time my Grandparents had gotten a different bull from the one I told you about above. This bull was a big, young and feisty black and white Holstein and he was rambling loose in this holding yard. Now I knew this wasn't right--they never let him out loose like that! My slow walk down the hill turned into a race back up that hill to tell my Grandmother about the "escaped" bull! Well, Grandma said a few fancy cuss words in French (both of my Mother's parents had hailed from Canada-hence the French, which BTW I never learned to speak much to my regret) then made her way down to the barn. Now in Grandma's haste to get to the barn to get a tractor to round up this bull with she brought the flyswatter out with her which she just tucked under her arm. Grandma drove into that holding yard without any fanfare. About this time my Mother arrives home to see me guarding the gate with Grandma unsuccessfully trying to round up this bull and head him back into the barn. Now mind you, Mom was a little thing of only 5'2 and maybe 120 pounds soaking wet. She hollers to my Grandma and after a quick and heated conversation my Mom instructs me to hop on
the tractor with Grandma and she took the flyswatter from Grandma. Now this flyswatter was something to be dreaded in Mom's hands! Just thin flexible wire handle and a square bit of plastic about 3" by 3", full of holes like you would find window screen to be if you magnified it a few times--boy if you got swatted with that thing on bare legs you made sure never to repeat the infraction again for that thing stung like 15 or 20 mean old hornets and left you with a red mark that lasted for hours! Mom quietly snuck up behind that bull, grabbed him by the tail and starts to wailing on him with that flyswatter and hollering at him in French. That bull glanced up at Grandma and me with eyes so big and terrified that I started to feel kind of sorry for him. Next thing we knew that bull was a bellering and hell bailing for the barn on a dead run with my Mom still hanging on to his tail slapping his ass with that old flyswatter! His hooves were a flying and the old yucky, shit smelling mud was flying every which a way. I don't know who was laughing harder--me or Grandma! Once he was back in the barn he headed right to his stanchion to be latched right in--just a tame as an old house dog.
Turns out that Grandpa had let him out to wait while he was out in the pasture rounding up a cow that was in season. So that bull was out there to do his thing, only his romantic interlude was abruptly ended by a nasty old flyswatter! After that run in with my Mom he wouldn't come out of the barn if he could see her. Go, Mom Go!

rm_solitoode 50M

8/11/2006 6:23 am

I love farm stories! I grew up on a farm and could tell many of them myself. Funny and scary stories. It is definitely a different kind of life.

Thanks for sharing!


VTLakesideVixen 60F
458 posts
8/11/2006 7:27 am

    Quoting rm_solitoode:
    I love farm stories! I grew up on a farm and could tell many of them myself. Funny and scary stories. It is definitely a different kind of life.

    Thanks for sharing!

Hi Solitoode! Glad you like them! You are certainly right when you say it is a different kind of life! I didn't grow up on a farm--was a city child --but by the time I hit 16 my Dad retired from the USAF and move to within 20 minutes of my Grandparents farm. So that when I really got a taste of what farm life is all about! Not a life for those who don't like to work! If you can afford it and appreciate hard work, then it is one of the best things you could do with your life I think.

economickrisis 55M

8/11/2006 8:13 am

Your mum the bull swatter

Real old bushies claim to be able to toss a bull by twisting their tail. I have never seen it done so it could be a load of bull too.

tadpudgy 56M

8/11/2006 5:55 pm

I remember dad had friends with farms in rural NC. As a little boy. i learned lessons in hard work, and that a farm is not a place for play. Still, i look back and glad for my visits. Definetly learned lessons about staying away from animals when they was "in-season". You are a 24-carat sweetie Miss Vixen!!!!!!!!!!!! HUG=GASMS!!!!


8/11/2006 8:19 pm

What great stories. My mom's folks had a farm, and one of the things I still remember doing with my granddad was to put out feed for the cows, although when I was little I was afraid to get out of the back of the pickup. The worst thing was helping clean out the chicken house..I always wondered if they just waited until the city kid got there to clean it..

angelofmercy5 59F
17881 posts
8/12/2006 5:51 am

I loved this post! I spent alot of time on my relatives dairy farm....and some of my best memories came from there! Thanks for tripping my memory!

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