What do you wanna make those eyes at me for?
If they don’t mean what they say.
They give me unease, they make me freeze. They make me wish that I could just run for the trees.
You’re fooling around with me now. Well you jump about and then you run away. Well that’s not alright, you’re giving a bit of a fright. So Renoir you’ll find, I’ll leave you alone tonight.
Why don’t you wanna go back in now? ‘Cause if you don’t, I’ll need help.
All you need to create new words for songs is a bull and then 20 minutes in a tractor. And before I get people telling me about bulls, if any cow had given me the same look I would have wanted over the nearest hurdle, maybe not ASAP but quick, sharp. And he was not the only one acting funny.
Renoir, our bull, is normally very placid and not one to run sprints or look like a consestant for a steeplechase. I’m not someone who likes dealing with bulls but I am aware he is pretty good in bull terms in his personality. When they were turfed out of the byre so that I could give them another bale of hay there was snow on the ground. His greeting at the door was a look, a shake of the head and a wee back kick as if he was wanting a part in the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. Nothing wrong with that, just my gut wasn’t happy and it was nothing to do with what I had eaten for breakfast. The first line of the song came to mind. The rest of the song was going through my head while I minimised exposure (aka clamoured over the nearest hurdle to exit handling area) and got on with the work. This went without any bother until I had to get them all back in…and the lot refused! Out came the recycled red, energy buckets. These were jingled (rattled when there is no festive snow regardless of the time of year) at the feed barrier which got the top three cattle in the herd hierarchy prancing back in quick step. However, Renoir is currently the only non muppet of the three who has figured out how to put his head through. The other two guard the rest of the barrier ensuring no other member of the pack gets any nuts, because, well, if they can’t why should anyone else?
Eventually they were all tucked back up in the byre before the next snow flurry hit. I just hope Renoir soon forgets his ambition for dancing with the Sugar Plum Fairies.