|small bull moved to corral|
I shoved my feet into my Bog boots, pulled on a sweatshirt, stocking cap, and gloves and jogged to the first gate that needed opened. Here came the bull we needed to move. He was jogging down the road the direction we wanted so I cut across the field to open the gates at the bridge and then the corral.
Looking up, I noted the bull running down the hay field with my husband and our border collie, Boots, not too far behind. Knowing once the bull was turned back, I'd need to stop him from going back through the first gate so I jogged that direction. My husband hollered to close the gates. I did. Then attempted to turn the bull when he came my way. I manged to scare him back the other way and then he headed for the bridge only to pivot and run through the large gap between us. Back toward the cows.
|Large bull who gets to go wherever he wants|
He kept coming. So I stepped aside letting him go where he wanted, and thankfully the smaller bull, the one we wanted, trotted down the road, across the bridge, and into the corral., Why he couldn't have done that the first time...that's what farm life is about.
You never know how long a simple task may take. It all depends on the mood of the animal your working with.