Moody feelings begin as soon as you are released, but being a bull and occasionally
requiring some added control a brass ring was inserted into the bridge of that bovine nose.
It hurt like hell fire going in, and acts with every mouthing bite to remind you that it is part of you.

Furry fun is short lived, as after lying near to other of your breed,
their scent is upon you, and then so are the flies.
This makes the use of the tail back there as
more than just a plaything. Swatting nasty biting flies becomes an all out war,
as some get past the tail and nab the big butt anus.

Sniffing and snorting, the scent of the heifers and cows are making inroads into you mind,
suggesting it is nearer the time of rut.

Grazing was rather easy to learn but this rage feeling of rut is getting hard to ignore,
and making what like to be hard, as something you wish you could ignore, but cannot!

Thoughts begin to try or wish to ask that you might return to being human,
not liking the lifestyle of a bull. It seems a fated thing to be denied,
and wishing, wanting, some where down deep you know for you
this is where and as what you might as well get the idea its a permanent thing!