I knew it was going to be a decent day when at 1:00 am, the bull was still in his pen. At 3:00 am, the bull was still in his pen. And at 4:30 am, the bull was still in his pen.
However I've learned alot in the past week about bulls. They pout just like dogs when they are scolded. After yet another morning being rudely awakened by an escaped calf (and I use the term 'calf' very loosely - he's pretty darn big), I had had enough. Off to TSC my husband went to purchase yet another boatload of posts, insulators, and electrical tape. Frankly, I would have sold my left arm to electrify this animal! We strung up enough electrical cord to light up the sky like the northern lights.
I felt kind of bad the first two times that Lunchbox got zapped. Because he pouted. Just like a kid. He stood in the middle of his pen and refused to look at me. I felt bad for a second until I remembered the near heart-attack I had when I heard a horn blaring in front of my house at 6:00 in the morning. Or when I heard someone pounding on my door at 5:00 in the morning. And then, I didn't feel bad at all. But he still he pouted. And sought revenge. And when a bull seeks revenge . . . 
he eats things! But all in all, it was destined to be a fine day here at One Old Goat farm. With the bull in his pen and the water pump working, it was all good.
