Taking the bull by the horns

 

Well actually this is about a cow I bumped into recently, well actually she bumped into me, and rightly so, but that’s me talking after the fact, fact of the matter is…

 

But let’s not start after the fact, let’s begin at the beginning, if there is such a place as a beginning in tales like these. Let’s start at dawn, that seems like a fair enough place to jump start this story.

 

It was me who was supposed to guide the cows in on that fateful morn; an easy enough job, they know the drill and food is waiting. Cows are creatures of habit, like we all, but how was I supposed to know the likes and dislikes of these ladies on that dark winter morning, I was just getting into the routine they know so well. They come in, stick their necks out and into a guillotine like contraption, bow their heads, eat and relax into the flow of the day.

 

One cow came to the end of the line, turned and headed out again. “You’re not supposed to do that” I told her, but she did pay me no mind and kept on coming, determined to go out. Me, pretending to be determined, blocked her off, thinking, and that was my mistake. Her head went down, showing me her one and a half horns, and I knew I was in trouble, thinking me the wiser of us two, I stood my ground, but she just gave me a look, that to me looked a little cross-eyed or evil and up my spine fear crept in, right at the same second she poked her half horn into my ribs, I caved in and she went out.

 

Later I learned that she has indeed trouble seeing straight, but apparently you don’t need 20-20 vision to poke through my fake determination and see my fear.

 

She called my bluff, and rightly so, I did not take the bull by the horns.