The Hereford attack

If you listen close, this story I’ll tell
A bull-hauling day, not going so well

One bull was black, one red & white
With only two bulls the trailer was light

This early sunrise, now a very late night
When a left turn was made that should have been right

This short little trip meant easy to be
A 12-hour drive was now 23

So a bug cup of ice & sunflower seeds
Are seeming to be what this driver needs

The first stop is here, the Angus to drop
But the Hereford came too, he just wouldn’t stop

He rushed the poor driver who fell onto the floor
And out of the trailer and under the door

A horn to the ribs, a hoof to the knee
The driver was down and the Hereford was free

Yes, free this bull was, but where would he go?
This Hereford’s not liking ground covered with snow

Now the driver jumped up, wiping snow from his face
He knew he would be second in a Hereford-man race

But the snow on the ground for this Hereford’s too much
The trailer’s much warmer with shavings and such

Then back on the trailer went the bull’s head and then rump
Yes, the Hereford hopped on with a skip and a jump

Never before had this happened you see
A self-loading Hereford who could have been free

The door was then shut that driver moved fast
He had done it before many times in the past

So back down the road with the Hereford in back
This story is true of the Hereford Attack PD

—Poem and submission by Marty Mickelson