Also, no one told me it’s a dumb idea to sit in a field and sketch bulls. This bull was OK at first, as long as he was surrounded by his cows. But my scratching pens annoyed his harem. One by one, they got up and headed off, leaving just me and the bull. He sat there, staring over at me and looking more and more irritated.
Then he struggled to his feet and started walking toward me.
I dropped my pen set and sidestepped slowly over to the middle of the field. I stood in a patch of high grass. For every step I took, the bull followed me.
“Nice bull,” I said. I yanked out a big wad of grass to offer him. He stared dully back at me.
I waved the grass back and forth a few times. He put his head down and started to trot toward me. I trotted backwards, but it was too far to the fence. I held out the grass so that he could really see it, and I tossed it to the side, figuring he would choose me or the grass.
At the very last second, he lurched to the side and bent down to eat the grass. I ran back to where I was sketching and picked all of my pen points out of a wet cow pie.
