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Bullfighting

Posted 8/30/2012 7:07am by Julie Hurst / Roy Brubaker.

August 30, 2012

We've recently encountered a new style of bullfighting, we'll call it Blue Rooster Farm style and it differs considerably from the classic Iberian bullfighting. Thank God.  I don't think I could deal with the crowds, the little men in tights with big swords dancing around, or, for that matter, the "grand finale".  It's just not my scene. I like our version much better.

When our cows, calves, and bull returned from our neighbor's farm to graze on our pastures again, they came within scent-distance of our five remaining feeder steers.  I'm sure most of you know that a steer is a male bovine that has been castrated at a young age.  A steer usually does not show any of that bullish nature that comes out when a bull is around a herd of cows; a testosterone-driven possessiveness that can make a bull rather dangerous in the right conditions. Apparently one of our steers was not fully castrated because as soon as the big "papa" bull got wind that he was around, we had a Blue Rooster Farm bullfight on our hands. Wanting to prove their superior bullish-ness, the two males positioned themselves in their different paddocks so that they were as close as possible to each other, (a creek, several "hot" wires, and about 50 yards between them) and started bellowing.  Bellowing bulls, even half-bulls, are not melodic.  It is a deep, humming pant that goes on and on and on then finally whimpers out in one long final low hum. The two "bulls" go back and forth with these bellows, trying to intimidate the other into silence until one gets hungry and walks away to graze.  What Blue Rooster Farm style bullfighting lacks in artistry and drama it gains in sheer duration. This 'fighting' continued till the distance between the two affronted males was such that they could no longer smell each other's offending scent. After several days of their bellows we got use their racket and they seemed to get used to each other because the confrontations did begin to dimish. I suspect our "steer" got a good look at what he was up against and just decided it was in his best interest to spend his time putting on a few more pounds.

Last week a neighbor who uses our bull for breeding picked him up and took him to his herd of cows.  The grand finale in our version of a bullfight is little red trailer weighed down with over a half ton of bull pulled by a straining pickup truck chugging into the sunset.  Silence is golden.