“I understand.”
“But he hasn’t attacked anyone here.”
There was silence.
“What?” Margot asked.
“He’s been here five days. No aggression. No broken fence. No charging. No trouble.”
“That can’t be the same animal.”
“It is.”
“Mr. Crow, Nabid destroyed reinforced gates in Texas.”
“He hasn’t touched my fence except to learn where it is.”
Another silence followed, longer this time.
Margot’s voice changed. “Bryce Carmichael said something about confinement stress.”
“My daughter thinks the same thing. She studies wildlife biology. Says he behaves like an animal that needed space.”
“That makes sense,” Margot said slowly. “It actually makes a lot of sense.”
“I can keep him temporarily,” Silas said, surprising himself as the words came out. “Six weeks. Provided feed costs are covered and someone helps with veterinary oversight.”
“I’ll get documents drafted today.”
When he hung up, Buck was standing in the doorway.
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.