They call me the Bull Whisperer

A perfect, frosty morning at a small (10 acre)  farmstay outside of lovely Hamilton. Raising up a couple of steer who, like bulls everywhere, had to seek me out and pose for pictures.

OK – I admit it, I flatter them, tell them they’re gorgeous and I just love the way their eyelashes flutter when they bat their eyes at me. Works every time!

Published by Titirangi Storyteller

Telling tales from around the world

6 thoughts on “They call me the Bull Whisperer

      1. How true… I was surprised at the bulls in India… very free and very mellow. Of course the same could be said for the bulls in the Scottish Highlands… but they were very different

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    1. he and his brother were waiting for me when I stepped out of the apartment door in the morning. It drives my husband crazy how bulls/steer are drawn to me wherever we go… And it’s all about me. I don’t know quite what it is, but they just love me…

      a bit freaky though when you are sitting in the car with the windows rolled up and a massive bull is staring at you longingly through the passenger seat window…

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