Hold on... Some yearling just informed me that his daddy, Ol' Charlie, is actually the favourite. Kid, I don't care if your daddy has the temperament of Ferdinand. I'm the best bull around here! Now go away; I'm trying to talk to the humans.
Sorry about that. There will always be deniers.
Anyhoo, I've been here for a little over a year and have quickly risen to the upper ranks of the bulls. My calves are awesome. My form is splendid. My temperament is perfectly fine. I have never given the farmers a single moment of worry. Until recently, that is.
You see, I was hanging out with my herd in the north pasture, where there's a bunch of muskeg and I may have been showing off a little (hey, the ladies like to be impressed) and I sort of stepped on a sharp stick. I'm no wimp, but that hurt! To make matters worse, the wound got a little infected and formed an abscess, so I limped a little. The limp was barely perceptible. Don't you be letting the four-eyed farmers tell you they saw me limp from across the field! They had a lucky guess, okay!
Well, my farmers, they're pretty decent as far as humans go, so they brought me up to the yard and put me in with the yearlings for a few days until they could take a good look at my foot. When they did, they didn't see the puncture wound (I hide my pain well - it's part of my charm). What they did see was that my toes on that foot were overlapping a bit. The younger farmer had the gall to say I had scissor hoof! Ladies and gentlemen, only cattle with poor foot conformation get scissor hoof. As I already told you, my form is splendid.
Obviously I was insulted, but then they started talking about maybe having to sell me, or at least not keeping any of my daughters in the herd. Can you imagine! If I were a lesser bull - which I am NOT - then of course there would be no question of whether such actions would be necessary. I'm not ignorant of reality. Lesser bulls don't get second chances and poor feet automatically put a bull in a low position. But like I said, I'm not a lesser bull.
My farmers, as I already mentioned, are pretty decent, so they figured they'd give me a chance and take me to the hoof trimmer. A few days later they loaded me onto the trailer and off we went. The last time I was on a trailer, I came to live at my farm, so I figured wherever I was going would be okay. I also had never had my hooves trimmed before, so I was totally unaware of the gross indignity that awaited me.
I'll spare you the more tedious details, but when we arrived, I was moved into a chute that seemed pretty normal, a lot like the one at home where the farmers put me to check my foot. The next thing I knew, a sling had closed under me and the entire structure - with me in it - was being tipped up on its side! I was horrified! I couldn't move! My best chance was to try to kick my way out. I struggled a bit, but then the hoof trimmer tied each of my feet to the sides of the structure! It didn't hurt, but really, you'd think there would be a more dignified way of doing things. I mean, if you don't want me to kick you, then stay away from my feet!
There was no way out and I knew struggling was useless. I lay there and waited for whatever would come next. The big guy that had tipped me up and tied my feet started scrapping the mud off the bottom of my hooves. Next, he picked up a grinder and used it to file away bits of my hoof. I didn't like the noise, but I couldn't really feel it (I'm told humans have things like hooves on their fingers, called fingernails, if that helps you get the idea of what was happening).
After he had trimmed my hooves, he showed the farmers my puncture wound, which they hadn't seen before. He also had the nerve to call me a baby for being sensitive to the pain when he poked at it. I bet he wouldn't be brave enough to try that if I wasn't all tied up!
I guess the guy wasn't so bad, because he also told my farmers that they shouldn't be worried about keeping any of my calves because my feet are just about perfect (I told you so!). The only reason my hoof grew kind of weird was that the ground had been so soft last year from all the moisture, so the hoof didn't wear down evenly. I can't believe my farmers were so panicky about it. You'd think they'd never had a bull with real scissor hoof before.
Oh... Apparently they haven't.
Well, as the hoof trimmer was showing my farmers just how awesome my feet are, he suddenly noticed something he hadn't seen before. He took his hoof knife and started cutting away at my hoof. Again, it didn't hurt, until he poked the abscess that none of them had seen up until that point. Finally my limp was justified!
The guy cut away almost the whole hoof on that toe, leaving only a ridge on the outside edge for me to walk on. I have to balance a bit more on the other toe now, but with the hoof gone, there's nothing to rub on the abscess (which is not nearly as bad as it could have been) and it'll heal up soon and I can get back to my herd!
For now, though, I'm stuck hanging out with these goofy yearlings. As for my hoof, it'll grow back soon.
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