No bull

Why did the cow cross the fence? Because the grass really is greener on our side.

A week after the firestorm swept through our farm in October -- started by a random act of malice at the roadside two kilometres away -- the grass was growing back, at first like green mist airbrushed over the hills, then rampant from all the rain.

Calves soon got through the fence and were enthusiastic to stay.
First it was Footsie and Tootsie who lingered by the fenceline in sight of their herd.

The next week they were joined by three others (who we dubbed the Toenails).

It was inevitable that the gully, which only ever flows after heavy rains, would cease to provide for thirsty cows under blue skies. 40 acres to roam, and they ended up outside my window drinking the tadpoles.

The sound of slurping at 2am had me up and out defending my pondwater. Tootsie cast a look of reproach at me waving my arms, consigning her to the desert of green grass.
At 5am again I came awake. Nose pressed to the flyscreen I was confronted with the scene of all five cows about to drain the pond.
The one advantage of thirsty cows is they stay together instead of scattering in every direction when you try to herd them. We succeeded in pushing them down through the burnt out persimmon orchard near the road. We had no idea of the time. At any moment the school bus might go past, or any number of cars off to work, and get a good view of two scantily clad crazies moving across the hillslope making loud claps and threatening gestures at a bunch of reluctant cows. Surprisingly not a single vehicle passed in the time it took to reach the gate.
It dawned on us we stood a chance of being able to rid ourselves of the whole problem if my son could get ahead of them and open the gate. I stood blocking any retreat. A raised hand from the driveway signalled success with the gate. I preceeded forward slowly. Unbelievably the lead cow (Footsie) went through. All the others followed. My loud claps turned to applause as my son swooped down to shut the gate.

The cows had become their owner's problem once more. He may not have cared to fetch them out of free pasture, but the threat from trucks thundering along the road must lead to some action.

There don't seem to be any fencing contractors left in our district.
Two months since the fire now, and I haven't found one.

So coming upon a bull near our barn today was alarming.
At first I thought it was just a mighty fat cow, until I spied the dangling balls.
Sorry no photos. Barefoot and hatless in the hot sun, armed only with some hastily grabbed garden stakes and a large rock lobbed at its shoulders, we lost no time in driving it slowly away down towards the road fence.
There was one very scary moment when my son hurtled backwards, turned and held his ground with two pointy stakes held out, and the bull lumbered to a stop in its warning charge.

Fortunately the bull seemed familiar with gates and driveways. And we got it out onto the road.

Must find a fencing contractor.