Yes, hes more like me in that respect, Julius said. Were more reserved and less showy.
More like you, less showy, you dont say?
Thats not to say we dont have something to crow about, we just prefer not to.
Beatrice nudged Blaise, and they laughed.
Julius flapped his great wings and flew off to rejoin Bruce grazing in the middle of the pasture behind the barn. He landed on the great beasts backside and made his way along his right shoulder.
Watch those claws, and whatever you have to say, speak softly if youre going to sit there all day, spouting off.
Yes, we wouldnt want the mules spies overhearing anything we might say either.
Hes an asshole.
Yes, I agree, and everyone has one. I have one. You have one. People have them, too, everyone, assholes. What they, Julius said, those made in Gods image, prefer to call a soul.
Whatever you call it, its still an asshole and hes full of shit.
Im going to have to ratchet it up with the mule. I need to make that old mule a mule.
Why bother?
If only one animal hears me and sees through this nonsense, well, then, Ill feel that Ive done some good.
Theyre animals, domesticated farm animals. They need to believe in something and follow someone.
Well, then, why not you? Julius said.
I like Howard, Bruce said. Hes a better alternative to the mule, but cerebral loses out to the meaty flesh of sin and shit.
I like him, too, but like his mulish rival, he is a celibate. No flocking for that boar, which makes him quite the bore, and just as the old mule cant, that boar wont. All for a good cause, of course, nothing, Julius said.
Bruce leaned down to graze and Julius almost tumbled off.
Careful, wish youd warn me next time you do that, the nerve. Julius climbed up along Bruces backside, lest he lost his balance and had to fly off, but Julius wasnt going anywhere.
From what I saw, youre losing the battle for assholes.
Theyre young. Theyre impressionable, Julius said, but if not me, then who?
Bruce turned and raised his tail and defecated, a large warm mound of bullshit formed behind him as he moved away.
A penny for your thoughts, Julius said. Yo, dude, that is some deep shit, man. Seriously, though, your timing is impeccable. What economy of words! What clarity! Youve certainly proven Edward De Vere correct who wrote, Brevity is the soul of wit.
Bruce was chewing his cud, Who?
Edward De Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford.
Whatever.
And by the size of that mound, Wit large. Julius bounded along Bruces backbone to his shoulders. Do you know why God gave man thumbs? So, he could pick up our shit.
I dont believe you believe in God.
I dont believe the joke would have worked as well.
What joke?
* * *
That night while most people were tucked away in their beds asleep, the bay mare, on the other hand, nuzzled up against the black Belgian Stallion in the barn lot, running her nose up along his great neck. Stanley neighed and shook his mane and stamped his feet. Beatrice stepped in front of Stanley and pushed against him, pushing against his smooth, rounded barrel chest. Without an audience in attendance, Manly Stanley snorted, and reared back onto his muscular hind legs, and covered Beatrice in the moonlight.
8
Wonderful Today
Stanley and Beatrice grazed together as the sun came up around them. Bruce and Blaise grazed nearby. All four animals demonstrated voracious appetites to the dismay of those who had gathered around to see the live, mating-season show. Disheartened, they, the Muslims, Jews, and Christians alike, all went their separate ways, in different directions to their homes and locations.
Well, hello, Beatrice, how do you do?
Hello, Blaise of Jersey, I do fine, thank you. So nice of you to ask, though. Beatrice smiled, And, how are you?
Im well, thank you. Im wonderfully well.
Yes, the sun has given you such a nice color.
Thank you for noticing, Blaise said, and smiled at her friend. Isnt it a gloriously lovely day?
Yes, it is, Beatrice said. I couldnt agree with you more, just wonderful today.
As they walked off together, Blaise said, Dear Beatrice, no one molests you, do they? They laughed happily.
Not even a saddle.
Not even Manly Stanley.
Well, unless I want him to. There is a difference, Beatrice said and the two friends laughed. They knew there was grain to be had in the barn, and so it was off to the barn they headed.
Hey, Stanley said when he saw Bruce.
Bruce nodded. The two great males of the moshav, the shimmering black Belgian stallion, and the reddish-coated Simbrah bull, continued to graze in the main pasture in the morning sun together among the sheep and goats.
9
BBC
or
Why did the Bull Cross the Road?
Bruce found himself back in his little pasture of the world. It was the feedlot behind the barn. He shook his great head and massive shoulders. He knew where the Israeli Holsteins were. Bruce raised his head as a light breeze blew over from the direction of the Holsteins. Local girls, a herd of 12, and Bruce loved BBC, big beautiful cows. As he contemplated the Holsteins, a couple of them had ventured up to the fence across the road. They grazed a little along the fence, but had come up to the road mostly to tease and taunt Bruce.
Standing inside the fence one of the heifers called out, Oh moo-hoo, Brucee, are you there? When are you ever going to come back and see us, big boy? My goodness, how long has it been, years at least if not longer?
This may be true for you, but if dreams do come true, this will be my first time, the younger heifer said. I mean, alive and warm anyway. Im a little nervous. The first time was through artificial insemination and that was no fun.
Oh, my, my, my, Bruce does not disappoint. My dear, youre in for a treat, and not to worry. Bruce is both gentle and fun and at the same time too.
But theres a barn lot of us. Can he manage, you know, all of us in one night?
Oh, my, yes, dear. Hes the only male species who can impregnate us all through the course of an evening, and yet satisfy too. Hell take his time, youll see.
Thank goodness. Anythings got to be better than a cold, sterile instrument.
We only need one bull, my dear, and theres only one Bruce, and hes ours.
The two heifers shared a laugh and rubbed shoulders as they sauntered off down inside the road to the meadow past the lemon grove. The Israeli Holsteins were head and shoulders larger than Blaise. They were close in stature to Bruce, nearly all of them 12 hundred pounds. A mixture of black and white, with black being the dominant color; each of the 12 cows had a large, full, low-hanging udder and big teats, and all of them white. Although similar in design, each cow had her own, unique personality. Bruce loved them all and would know each one after the other intimately before the night was over. He caught their scent wafting on the night air and it was nice.
He walked along the fence to the gate that opened onto the road that separated the two main pastures. He breathed deeply and snorted through his nostrils. It had four wooden planks. Bruce raised a hoof and kicked out the second rung from the bottom of the gate. Then he kicked and broke in half the third plank. He used his massive head and pushed through the upper rung to get to the other side. Not wanting to rush things or hurt himself, he stepped over the fourth rung one hoof at a time, careful not to scrape his low-hanging scrotum against the bottom rail. Once he cleared the bottom rung, he crossed the road toward the opposite pasture. One more gate stood between him and earthly bliss. At the fence, he looked over the barbed wire (which was in place as much to keep the Muslims out as it was to keep the heifers in), but couldnt see the dairy cows because of the row of lemon trees. He knew they were there. The Holsteins were hidden from view by the lemon grove along the fence line in the meadow in the back of what was the dairy operation of the farm. He could hear them and smell them down in the meadow. Bruce kicked the lower rung and raised a hoof and broke in half the middle one. He then used his horns to push through the upper rail. He stepped into the pasture and looked up and down the fence line. To his liking, he saw no one. He ambled along the field road down past the lemon grove into the meadow on the trail of 12 big beautiful cows in waiting.
When Bruce approached the heifers, it was dark under a clear sky with the same moon as the night before. They startled and scattered about, but none of them moved too far away lest she missed something important.
Here I am, girls. Here I am, he said.
Hey, look girls. Its Brucee! I told you hed come.
Oh, my Bruce! mooed a mature Holstein, happy to see him.
Shalom you, naughty devil, said another Israeli Holstein, obviously an old friend.
Come here you, old dawg, said another as she slid up against him.
Shush, he said. Now quiet down, girls. We wouldnt want to be found out, not yet anyway. I just got here.
Right, heavens no, we wouldnt want that, they mooed gleefully, rubbing their muzzles and bodies against him in the moonlight.
Besides, this is not according to plan. All hell would break loose if we woke the neighbors.
10
Curses
On Perelmans moshav, it was mayhem and chaos. The bull had somehow gotten into the pasture with the Holsteins and all of Juan Perelmans animal husbandry and planning had been shot in one night with each shot fired by the bull. Bruce was famished.
Harah, the moshavnik Juan Perelman said.
Shit, one of the Chinese laborers translated.
Benzona, Perelman said. It was his moshav.
Son of a bitch.
Beitsim, Perelman said.
Balls.
Mamzer.
Goddamn bastard, said the Chinese laborer.
Excuse me, said his countryman, and a gentleman. He did not say Goddamn.
Im a Taoist. What do I care? His countryman, and a gentleman, was also a Buddhist, as was the Thai laborer. Even though they were Buddhists, there was no friendly ground shared between the two men because ones Buddha was bigger than the others Buddha.
Juan Perelman said, Ill bet the Egyptians had something to do with this.
What are you going to do? Isabella Perelman said as she walked up to join her husband at the fence.
Im thinking.
Get rid of them, she said. Other moshavim have their issues, like us with land and water. Sale them off, all of them. She was attractive, with dark eyes, and long dark hair.
I dont know?
Ship them off then, or give them away if you have to, but lets finally turn the soil over on this farm and into crops and fruit trees, fig, date, olive trees, and fields of grain, wheat, and hayfields. Feed the people something. They dont eat pig.
The Chinese and Thai laborers exchanged looks. Wait a minute, they thought, were people too.
Thats not the issue here, Isabella. Its the dairy operation thats in question.
Well, how do you know he impregnated them anyway? I mean, seriously 12 Holsteins and the Jersey only a day before.
Look at him. Hes famished. I imagine hes lost a hundred pounds in two days. Bruce covered a lot of ground, gnawing away at the grass under hoof where he went. Look how his balls hang. He got to them all and somethings got to be done about it.
Still, Juan, dont we want the cows producing milk?
We can only handle four freshened cows at a time, maybe five, but not twelvethirteen! We dont have the resources to handle all of them, and the pigs, and all the other animals.
Why cant we just sell or move cows to other moshavim?
I dont want to. Besides, they have issues already and cant add ours to theirs. Water is an issue for everyone, as is the land.
Vengeance was theirs his, or so said Juan Perelman, the moshavnik, whose moshav the bull had just ruined.
I want this bull to be taught a lesson, he said.
What then, abort the calves?
No, call Rabbi Ratzinger.
A rabbi, she said, why a rabbi?
This is who we are. Ill show him to mess with me. Curse this bull anyway. We need a rabbi at a time like this.
Yes, I suppose so. Wont stand for this.
The Chinese and Thai farm laborers corralled the bull and drove him back into the feedlot behind the barn and away from the other animals. They waited for the arrival of the rabbi.
Juan Perelman said, This bull shall suffer the wrath of God and then some. Isabella headed for the farmhouse. Juan called after her, He will pay for what he has done.
Whatever, she said, waving him off with her hand.
This is an abomination.
Rabbi Ratzinger arrived with his entourage, male members of his congregation. They followed him in lock-step, all moving as one from the car to the field and the lot behind the barn. The rabbi had a gray beard and wore a black fedora, a black frock coat, a white shirt, and Bermuda shorts. It was a hot day under the sun, a gift from G-d. The shorts were modest, and the rabbis legs very white and thin, also a gift from G-d. The members of the congregation wore fedoras with dark clothes, pants, and coats with white shirts. Their beards and curls were of various lengths and shades of black to brown to gray. They wore un-shined black shoes and white socks.
The rabbi said, He shall suffer from here to eternity for what he has done without our permission or blessing. This is an abomination against G-d and shall not go unpunished. This is a lesson to be learned by animals of this moshav and by animals of all moshavim. He continued then to deliver his curse of curses to condemn this bull of this moshav for all eternity.
Thus, sayeth Rabbi Ratzinger, With much ado and with the judgment of the angels, and of the saints of heaven, we of the temple mount do solemnly condemn to here, and we excommunicate, cut, curse, maim, defeat, bully, and anathematize the Simbrah bull of the Perelman moshav and with the consent of the elders and all the holy congregation, in the presence of the holy books. Let it be known not of this moshav or any moshavim is he to be acknowledged of but an outcast for his sins against the moshavnik Perelman by the 613 precepts which are written therein with the anathema wherewith Joshua cursed Jericho, with the curse which Elisha laid upon the children and with all the curses which are written in the law. We curse the bull; we curse thy offspring, progeny. Rabbi Ratzinger was interrupted when one of his congregation assistants whispered in his ear.