Working at Gramen farm in Tomball, Tx was an experience unlike any other.. There I milked cows, goats, and made sure that chickens had water. Within this time I also became a certified Yoga instructor, so it was a very bright time in my life.
I wore a stetson actually, one with a string that I could tie around my neck to keep the wind from taking off with it. We had jersey cows, which produce the highest amount of cream in their milk. We also had a jersey bull, and he was special.
Moving the bull was like moving a ton of pure testosterone. The only way to convince him to do anything was to move his cows.. You could yell and holler and wave a stick at him, but he would only stare at you at best, and charge you at worst. He actually did charge me once, and I turned tail and ran behind a tree. I was flailing my stick in the air trying to convince him to go to the back of the farm, but his cows were headed the opposite direction, and so he wasn't having that. He warned me first, but I thought he was joking, with the whole 'stampeding foot' maneuver; however he wasn't joking and lunged at me with a swiftness. We kept the horns on the bull, so I'da died if I hadn't ran.
The goats were much more nice. The billy goat would piss on everybody, including himself, and rub himself on you endearingly; what the billy was doing was transferring his smell. I used to let them climb on me to get to the higher up pine brush. One time, without piss on his head, the billy actually massaged my knee with his horns. It felt so good it damn near brought me to the ground.
The chickens I've hated since a kid, because I used to live in the bario and I was attacked by a fighting rooster.
TIME!!!!
