That bull (picture taken this morning) is looking at me just like one in a field I had to enter for feeding all those years ago when working on my Suffolk farm. This had never been my job before and I was scared. Yes, I was able to drive a tractor up to the feeding troughs deep within a dip in that large field, but then had to get out and fill the mangers from a hand-held bag. The bull never flinched, though I did, with my knees knocking one another in what any person who has never had to feed a bull with their knees knocking one another would imagine is just a clichéd, comic myth. I can’t quite remember, but I’ll say this was after my experience of being bettered by a black & white Friesian at the Suffolk County Show, that embarrassment poeticised below, and my logic being at the time of feeding the bull and others, he could cause significantly more damage than dirtying my coat.