After a late evening trip to get checked out neither of us have any thing broken (I definitely don't have osteoperosis). We're pretty bruised and beat up but OK. The doctor wanted to give me a shot in the butt for pain but I told him that wasn't necessary, but I do hurt.
First he ran me down in the corral (I've never really realized how big those heads are till it hit me in the chest). I was sure I was about to meet my Maker. All I could think was "1 in 6 people survive a bull attack". (I guess there is still something here I'm supposed to be doing for the Lord or I'm sure I would be dead now). Then he went after my cowboy, knocked him down, and tried to rub him into the ground. Hurt as I was, I still managed to scare him off.
We were on foot, just trying to move him and another nicer old bull out of the corral and down the alley into the trailer, when he turned on us, hunting me then my cowboy.
I knew he was trouble. I hate those high headed bulls. I hate Charolais bulls. They are a problem every year, every year. Did I say I hate Charolais bulls? I hate Charolais bulls.