“Dad,” she said slowly, “why is there a giant white bull in our pasture?”
“Shipping mistake.”
“That is not a small shipping mistake.”
“No.”
She walked closer to the fence, careful to keep distance. Nabid lifted his head and looked at her.
Nessa did not move.
After a moment, he lowered his head again and returned to grazing.
She turned to Silas with bright curiosity in her eyes. “Where did he come from?”
“Texas. Champion genetics facility. Supposed to go to a sanctuary near Anchorage.”
“And ended up here?”
“Two numbers got switched, best I can tell.”
Nessa watched him for a long time.
“What are you thinking?” Silas asked.
“I’m thinking he doesn’t look aggressive.”
Buck snorted. “His file says otherwise.”
“I’m not saying his file is wrong,” Nessa replied. “I’m saying behavior depends on context.”
Silas waited.
“Commercial breeding bulls spend a lot of time in restricted environments,” she continued. “Small pens, chutes, handling, human pressure. Some animals adapt. Some don’t. If he’s unusually intelligent or sensitive to confinement, he could develop extreme stress responses.”
This story touched a part of me that has hurt underneath several careers and 65 years of life. I'm 71 now. My family is a long established name there. My memories of ranching, accidents, rodeo stock, flash floods and family loss are different than the way life is lived today. This story is magnificent, thank you for sharing it. And maybe there's hope for some of us humans that just need space and understanding. It's been 40 years since I became a civilian after 11 years as a
U.S. Marine. This story and that bull have more meaning than some will ever know. Thank you once again. Job well done.