Bulls Love Dirt

It’s true.

They all do.

Sir Baby is no exception.

My Baby

Sir Baby.

I am so in love with this bull.

He has remained gentle and sweet and so very dear, even when he was in with the heifers and everyone said he would turn mean for a spell, he never did.  He always came to me when I would visit him, and lean against me ever so gently as I leaned against him.

He’s huge.  He’s huge for a yearling and he still has a year or two of growing yet to do.  His hooves are heavy and strong and jet black; his shoulders are massive, rippling with muscle; his legs are solid and stocky; his hair is thick and curly…. he belongs on the cover of a romance novel.

I get so filled with pride when I look at him, at how he’s grown into such a perfect expression of what he’s meant to be.

I’m so glad he’s home again.

My Baby Does The Hanky Panky, YEAH!

~ a picture from the olden days, when my Baby was but an innocent lad ~

Went to check on Sir Baby.
It is evident
he is doing
his job.

Once upon a time, Grass > Girls.
And now?
He’s definitely girl-crazy.

Sir Baby was pushing 1000 pounds when he went in with the heifers.
He had ample fat stores
to put it politely.
(I spoil him, what can I say?)

He has lost 100 pounds.
Maybe 150.
In five days.

Even with grass up to his knees.

I hardly recognize him!!
He is a lean mean sex machine.
So proud….

(ps: Erin, this cover is 4 U!)

Sir Baby Becomes A Man

On Sunday, we put Sir Baby in a gorgeous pasture filled with lush, knee-high grass. Bushy alfalfa. Two huge shade trees. Fresh flowing water. And twenty plump, eager virgins. It’s time for Baby to earn his keep!

Sir Baby trotted through the gate. He stopped for a breath as the heifers surrounded him. Then he ran.

And the girls took off after him.

And when he stopped, the herd of heifers surrounded him once again.

(that’s Sir Baby in the foreground, and a hussy in the back riding another heifer)

And so he ran across the pasture,

and they chased him that way, too.

They want him bad.

My Baby has a lot to learn. And a lot to do.

A Lot of Bull

Let’s demystify the bull, shall we?

I don’t pretend to be an authority on animal behaviour; I’m not an expert.  However, I have studied the animals with whom I directly interact and I am an expert on them.  These animals include four adult bulls (not including Sir Baby, who looks positively miniature next to these guys).

Bulls have been given the reputation of villain, monster, evil beast with a
terrible temper, and it’s unfair.  It maintains a certain mythology.
It is a stereotype.

While I’m sure mean bulls exist, the bulls I know are shy, sweet, gentle, and dear.
They move slowly around me.  They never challenge me.  If one or two get out and find a haystack in which to bury their enormous heads, all I need to do is sidle between them and the hay and they will turn back to the pasture gate I have opened behind them.  They don’t smash me; they don’t toss me out of their way like a ragdoll in order to get more hay.

Testosterone does not make them mean.

Testosterone does not make an animal “become” mean!

Of the intact male animals I have known ~ be it feline, equine, bovine, canine ~ none have been mean animals.  None have been mean to people.  They are just really difficult to control when a cycling female is in the vicinity.

This is precisely why I castrated Frisco ~ I want him to be a working ox.  I do not want him distracted by the cows or racing off to breed one while pulling me in a cart behind him.  This is also the reason I neutered Charlie ~ so that he would not have to deal with the internal conflict of wanting to stay with his pack (us) and wanting to fulfill an urge to breed.

Bulls will fight eachother for breeding rights (as males of so many species will do), but during the rest of the year, when they are not with the cows or once the cows have all been bred, bulls live together harmoniously.

It’s not that bulls aren’t dangerous.
It’s that there’s a difference between dangerous and mean.
It’s that any animal this size can be dangerous if you don’t pay attention or let yourself end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I consider Daisy as potentially dangerous as these bulls.
And I consider these bulls as inherently generous and good as Daisy.

So next time you see a bull, blow him a kiss, won’t you?