Cole trotted at a moderate rate, he tried at the first when leaving the family home to flat out run, but his legs did not support his running and he fell twice. His falls did not hurt anything but his pride of self, and did for him a reminder that he was not born to be a herd bull. The sexual plans for finding wild delights had faded some, although he liked the fact of being naked and furry. His human morals taught to him during his formative years tended to be a bother, these dealing with the occasional need to urinate and doing it boldly where anyone might see him.
A youth of his age he knew the rural area around his parents home quite well, as used some known hiding places when people or an occasional friend came into view. What began to bother Cole the most was a starge number of police car driven around the area, as if they were loooking for someone. It finally came to him that his father had notified the sheriff department animal control, reporting a big bull animal was running loose.
Eight hours left to Cole in his fandango fling and he was but two miles from home and nowhere near any farms having cattle.
Cars and trucks populated the four lane main road leading into town, and Cole wanted to get across the road to venture closer to the large Killingworth farm. Cole knew John Jr. the son of the owner of the 20,000 acre farm, as their prime business was breeding cattle, mostly Angus breeds and some Bison for crossbreeding of Beefalo cattle.
Cole stood waiting for any chance when he might make a fast dashing run across the highway.
The sun was just cresting the eastern hills making for long shadows, places where a black furry shadow might sneek across. Cole saw his chance and exited the thicket of bushes growing near the roadway. He waited for the traffic to thin, as then he charged across. His urgent need and the mad dash ran into an unexpected problem, as hoffs, cloven of not did not gain good traction when running on concrete. As he was almost across a car came around the cuve to his right and seeing the animal in the road, the driver applied the car brakes to making the tires screech.
The screeching tires noise Cole heard quite well and it made him slow toa walk and look at the vehicle headlights bearing down at him.
A second vehcle behind the one slamming on the brakes started blowing the car horn. This ramble of noise startled Cole, or the bull that he had become as he stopped and stood bathed in the headlights of a car coming at him. Then there were other cars coming from both directions, some stomping hard on their brakes and others blowing their car horns. Fear and instinct for self preservation did for Cole as he began to run again, and made it over the highway to the safety of some wetlands.
Cole longed by then for the relative peace and serenity of a farm. He sighed and proceeded onward, plodding through the buggy bog, until he came closer to where he could see the pasture gate to the eastern range land owned by John Killings worth Sr. When Cole arrived at the gate he when with friend John had scaled and sat upon many times before, he could see it as a distinct bearer to a bull. Cole began walking the outside of the farm fence until he arrived at the main entrance to the home and barns.
Tired, muddy his legs, the incects from the bog were following him, pestering him, as he walked slower, where he entered past the front gate and began walking along the driveway.
Farm wranglers Todd and Gary saw the loose animal strolling calmly along the fence, it heading toward the main house where no bull belonged or was wanted. The two friends mounted their horses and went to lasso and capture the brute before he caused either damage or harm.
Cole saw as heard the horses coming toward him and after the terror of his crossing the highway he stopped and stood calmly waitng for the lassos to land about his strong neck.
"Hey now, that was an easy catch, kind'a like the brute wanted to get caught," Gary said to his partner wrangler.
Gary took the lead as Cole followed, and Todd rode to the far right side expecting the bull to try and dodge being led through a gate into a corral. Cole surprised the two wranglers and stopped to let Gary drop off his horse and unlatch the gate to the corral. As the gate was swung open, the black mature bull that was then Cole, he walked inside feeling safe from cars, trucks, and the real world.
The sun was up and the morning chores were underway, when Mr. Killingsworth arrived at the corral to see the animal found wandering on his property. Cole saw Mr. K. coming and he trotted up close to the corral fence to meet the man.
"Muroo," bellowed Cole to the man of whom he when human and a teenager did have respect.
"Any markings on the brute, I see no brand, no ear tag, check his lower lip for a tattoo..., hmm, nothing, now that is strange, a bull of such obvious calivar let to run loose. Well have Gary get a manure sample and run it for any diseases. If the bull is clean we will make use of his abilities with the cow herd until his owner arrives and takes the bull back home." Mister Killingsworth so ordered, and Cole bellowed a soft sounding moo, as if willing to be of help.