When I was about 13 and visiting Andy and Agnes Brekhus' farm, I was walking in a field that happened to have a large black Brahman bull in it. Andy saw what was going on and yelled at me to get out of there. It was then I saw the bull coming at me! I ran faster than ever before and, when coming to the barbed wire fence, I leaped over it head-first. The bull, right behind me, tried to leap after me, but came down hard on the fence, getting tangled in the barbed wire. Andy had to cut the wires loose from the poor bull. I thought the Brahman bull was about the meanest creature alive.
But later I read about the Brahman bull in Nevada in June of 1949 that died of a broken heart after a two-week vigil beside the body of a cow killed by a train.
Not the meanest creature.

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