Three Bulls and a New Arrival
Word spread quickly across the pasture: the rancher was bringing in another bull.
The three resident bulls stood near the fence line, watching the horizon like generals preparing for war.
The First Bull snorted confidently.
“I’ve been running this field for five years. Five. I’ve earned my 100 cows the hard way. I’m not giving a single one up to some newcomer.”
The Second Bull tossed his head in agreement.
“I’ve been here three years, and I’ve secured my 50 cows fair and square. I’m not sharing either. Territory is territory.”
The Third Bull, smaller but sturdy, stamped a hoof.
“I’ve only been here a year. You two barely let me have 10 cows as it is. I might not be the biggest, but I’m keeping every one of mine.”
They nodded, unified in their determination.
Then they heard it.
The rumble.
An 18-wheeler rolled slowly into the pasture, dust swirling behind it. The back gate creaked open, and down the steel ramp stepped the largest bull they had ever laid eyes on.
He was massive.
Four thousand seven hundred pounds of muscle and attitude.
Each step he took made the metal ramp groan in protest.
The First Bull swallowed hard.
“Well… I suppose I could spare a few cows. You know, just to keep the peace.”
The Second Bull cleared his throat.
“Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed lately. Too many cows to manage. I wouldn’t mind lightening the load a little.”
They both turned to the Third Bull.
He was pawing the dirt furiously, shaking his horns, snorting like a steam engine.
The First Bull shook his head.
“Son, don’t be foolish. This isn’t the hill to die on. Let him have a few of your cows and live to graze another day.”
The Third Bull kept scraping the ground, eyes locked on the giant newcomer.
The Second Bull leaned closer.
“You don’t stand a chance. He outweighs you by a couple of tons.”
Without looking away, the Third Bull replied,
“He can have all ten of my cows. Every single one.”
The two older bulls blinked in surprise.
“Then what in the world are you doing?” the First Bull asked.
The Third Bull snorted one more time and said,
“I’m just making sure he knows I’m a bull.”
One Momma Cow and Four Calves
On a quiet little farm, there lived a proud momma cow and her four baby calves. Each calf had a rather unusual name, and as calves often do, they were curious about it.
One sunny afternoon, the first calf trotted up to his mother.
“Momma,” he asked sweetly, “why is my name Rose?”
The momma cow smiled warmly.
“Well, darling, when you were born, a soft rose petal floated down from the barn loft and landed right on your head. So we named you Rose.”
The second calf wandered over, ears twitching.
“Momma, why is my name Lily?”
She nuzzled him gently.
“Because when you were born, a lily petal drifted down and landed on your head.”
The third calf bounced up excitedly.
“Momma, why am I called Daisy?”
The momma cow chuckled.
“When you were born, a daisy petal fell straight onto your little forehead.”
Just then, the fourth baby calf waddled over and said,
“Huh ruh buh duh!”
The momma cow blinked.
“Honey,” she sighed, “be quiet, Cinderblock.”
Hope that gave you a good laugh. Sometimes we’re all just trying to prove we’re bulls… and sometimes we’re just Cinderblock.
Have a wonderful day! 🐄
Disclaimer: This story is created for entertainment and educational purposes only. Characters and events are fictional and meant to deliver humor and positive life lessons.
