Buford was a bull that every cattleman desired, he was big and thick and every heifer’s desire. He showed up early one spring after being polished up to shine, a quick trip through the sale ring and his new home was close to mine. From the minute he walked off the trailer he made quite an impression, that gentle bull that had walked the ring was nowhere to be found, his attitude flipped a switch, and he could leap fences in a single bound. We gave him a few days to settle down before we gathered him to the pens once more, but when we put our iron on him, he became wilder than before. He cleared the corral gate, mucked out a dog and Grandma’s pet chicken, I’m starting to wonder if he’s part bucking horse the way he’s tossing and kicking.

                  A few months went past, and his demeanor quieted back down. The time came for him to live with the girls for the summer. For a few weeks Buford stayed with his harem, quite content to say the least, but one night he heard the bellow of the neighbor’s lonely beast. Buford flipped his switch and engaged hurdler mode, he crossed three fences, a creek and a county road. The wandering heifers pointed us along his path of destruction, we gathered cows, fixed the fence and gathered the girl’s wayward companion. We brought him home nice and neat; we were kind to him this time and let him walk on his own four feet.

                  About a week went by and he minded his manners. Staying home with the girls and eating plenty of grass and fresh water. Then one night a strange new lady lured him away with her mournful cry, he was off again on an adventure, touring the countryside. Daylight again showed his path to sin, it’s becoming pretty clear that this bull is not a one herd man. Broken posts and stretched out wire led the way to the neighbor’s place a few miles down the road, this time Buford got a ride home in the trailer and a ring put in his nose.

                  Back to his harem he went, surely this time he would stay, after all we moved him and his girls, so the next cows are nearly two miles away! The nights must have gotten lonely, and his mind began to wander, this caused his feet to carry him to pastures way off yonder. This was strike three for me. I’ve grown tired of angry phone calls and broken barbed wire; Buford is a bigger headache than a raging prairie fire. This time Buford came home running on two feet while his butt was being pushed by the bumper, we were in third gear going for fourth when we came to the corral gate. A trip to the locker plant would be Buford’s next hot date.

                  So, I sit here by the grill listening to the sizzle. A cold drink in my hand and a toasted bun waiting for a juicy hamburger. I think back to a few words of advice a college professor once said to me, “They can try like heck, but they can’t jump out of a freezer.”

                  As summer begins to wind down and school, starts back up again, remember there are some lessons that can be learned outside of the classroom. Be careful pulling the ornery male bovine and remember to keep tabs on your side of the barbed wire. God bless!

Meinzer is a fourth-generation rancher raised on the southeastern plains of Colorado. He and his family live and ranch in Oshkosh, Neb.