Mid-week there was usually no one else using the field archery course, so I liked to hit it then with my target bow and I could let Taffy, our family beagle, run free without bothering anyone. The course was on a big ridge and behind it was an active cattle ranch.
I was shooting my 34# Hoyt recurve reasonably well, plunking arrows into the targets mounted on hay bales and was about halfway through the course when I noticed a bit of a commotion coming my way. The dog was barking, dust was flying and something big was going through the trees with that dog. It was hard to tell if the brahma bull was chasing my beagle, or if the beagle was herding the bull towards me. Beagle and bull seemed to be swapping positions time to time. Either way, they were both closing in on my location quickly!
Fleet of foot in those days, I headed down the ridge towards the fence in a big hurry. Dog and bull were both closing the gap and by this point the bull had seen me too. While we were running for the fence Taffy caught up to me and looked up like “Isn’t this fun?”
We made it to the fence. I went over, the dog went under. We didn’t slow down until we reached my parked car, a somewhat warmed - over ‘66 Ford Fairlane. Dog scrambled in, bow was tossed into the back seat and the V8 thundered to life. Fortunately the bull had stopped at the fence, but seemed to still be in a very disagreeable way. Gravel and dust flew, tires screeched as rubber met pavement and off we went. Whew!
It was several weeks before I ventured back to the archery range. Without the dog this time. The dog and the Ford are of course long gone now, but I still have and occasionally shoot my old Hoyt target bow. Now and then I take a moment and think about that beagle bringing me a ticked-off bull.
I’m a USMC veteran, retired police officer, lifelong hunter and handloader. See more of my work on Ultimate Reloader.com
Regards, Guy
The old joke:
Guy: Taffy, you don't think you can outrun that bull, do you?
Taffy: All I have to do is outrun you.
😄