Last year we had Billy Bull service the Widen Marsh cows: a strong feisty character and afraid of nothing. The first time I set eyes on Billy Bull he was charging, head down, like a steam train to challenge me and assert his dominance. A sharp slap across his nose stopped him dead in his tracks and prevented our first meeting from moving in a direction I had no wish for it to go. Billy did his job well, though, and was moved on to pastures new.
Today, Terry Bull arrived on the marsh. Apart from the calves, Terry is the smallest member of the herd; he hid in the alder scrub when he saw me earlier today, and had no wish to come out to properly introduce himself. I billed and cooed for a while and he eventually stopped long enough for me to get a photograph