It’s been an exciting week, starting with Grandma waking up to the bull named Dieman (pronounced “demon”) in the backyard. I was in the livingroom and heard her pull back the curtain and say, “That ol’ devil is in my back yard!”
Lady, whom Grandma suspects might be an angel (because she doesn’t kick me) was disgusted. Grandma wasn’t sure what to do because Farmer Allen and the farmhands were not out and about yet.
I do NOT put up with any kind of bull, especially when it comes to Grandma. I may be small, but I am fierce!
Grandma saw the look in my eyes and decided I should stay tied up until she assessed the situation.
Grandma stood before him and pointed her finger, “Dieman you don’t belong here. Get back in that pen!”
I wonder about Grandma sometimes. Either she doesn’t have any sense, standing before a bull and scolding him, or she’s the bravest woman I know.
After Dieman stood up, Grandma walked to the front yard to see if Jorge, the herdsman had shown up. She turned around and saw Dieman pull off a branch of an ornamental tree Grandma had spent a lot of effort to rescue.
“Dieman!” she yelled across the yard. “YOU GET AWAY FROM THAT TREE!”
The bull looked at her, spit out the branch, then walked off. Jorge was not in sight, so Grandma went after Dieman. She was mad!
He hid behind the tree.
When Grandma called out, “I see you!”, he gave strong consideration to busting through the electric wire to join the little heifers.
“You are NOT going to go mess with those girls,” Grandma commanded.
And then, Dieman just stood there and pouted. No kidding! Have you ever seen a bull pout?
Jorge showed up and rescued Dieman, walking behind to make Dieman head to the pen. Grandma said she would get me to help.
Jorge asked, “He can move cows?”
“Yes, as long as he listens to me.”
I was ready! Dieman had cut through the flower garden Grandma had been working in.
“Git ‘im Petey!”
I hunched my shoulders, flared out my hair, bare my teeth, and kicked into gear with a deep growl. Grandma calls me the Lion of Judah when I do this. She’s seen this transformation more than once and tries to avoid situations where it is necessary. I welcome the action!
When Dieman trotted in the right direction, I backed off.
Trouble! He turned toward the heifers again.
“Git ‘im, Petey!”
I turned on full ferocious and Dieman was convinced his pen was the best place to be.
Jorge took it from there and penned up Dieman. As Grandma and I went back to the house, we were greeted by my admirers.
Roque and Fort, Mozza and Rella, Feta and Gouda…they all gathered at the fence.
“Petey, you’re so brave!”
“How do you do it? That bull is so big!”
“You’re a real warrior, Petey!”
Grandma fixed me a good breakfast. “Petey, I’m proud of you. Even Jorge was impressed!”
“I’m a super-hero, Grandma! That’s what we do!”