![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqAcvu1VxTOibFv0v8KZDpetr66xvrr-I_fWdI7Qun4-nW4jnbuCsWJW7tG5eO6_Rq6X4qPK77vm6uGPMy9_z-eO52KthXbgDcbtgF8k84pDC4Yb8L4no7NiahZ4PIp-WwrnwnJ7jAjs/s400/thebulls.jpg)
"The boys are happy."
Three bulls were taken out of wet corrals (or wherever they were) and put onto the grass in our pasture.
I walk out to the fence every day and lean over it, tell them how handsome they are, and pretty much get ignored.
I don't go over the fence when they're in there, except to take this photo; and there's an electric fence inside the other fence, so I kid myself that it is any protection if I get behind it fast. It's not; a pissed-off animal this size would walk right through it. Same with the permanent fence I suppose, as far as that goes. Anyway, I'm nervous around these big beasts, but am told they're more scared of me than the other way around. Good, but I don't care.
So we're wary of each other.