@inkican As a kid my parents owned a cattle farm in southwestern Minnesota, and if we didn't go visit grandma in CPT we'd have to spend the summer there.

The neighbors had highlands, and the bull they owned looked like this one, hated the owner, his wife, his two sons, and my brother, but -- for whatever reason -- loved me like I was his child.

So whenever something needed done with Fergus, the bull's name, I was the one who had to do it. When I had to leave he would try to keep me from going.