I remember Patrick McManus saying in one of this stories, "There are two kind of cows, slow mean cows and fast mean cows." I have been around cows my whole life, started driving the cows to the barn from the back pasture using a bullwhip (therefore qualifying as a genuine cracker) when I was 8. Mostly a bunch of mixed breed cows and steers and a good Hereford bull, which were usually as gentle as a large kitten.

In the late '80's I was fishing in a small aluminum boat with my brother in law and his son in a pond on their small farm. A young Hereford bull had escaped from a vet's corral and gone looking for girl friends. He came through the barb wire fence and began acting like a young bull in a pasture with a older resident bull. After fighting around the pond they got in the pond, I moved the boat to put deeper water between us so they wouldn't capsize the boat. My nephew was about 9 years old and freaking out. We beached the boat on the opposite side of the pond, it goes without saying the fishing was pretty much over at that point in time. I was amazed the young bull, who got the better of the fight, actually tried to push his opponents head under the water. I don't think the episode caused my nephew any emotional harm, he still hunts and fishes every chance he gets.