"Don't mess with the bull son, you'll get the horns!" - The Breakfast Club

Yesterday I was traveling through the midwest countryside with my sister when we came upon a herd of cows that were particularly cute. Lately I have been compelled to photograph the things I find delightful or unusual. We stopped the car and I hopped out, talking to said cows as I approached the thin wire fence. They were wary, eyeing me with some trepidation. They moved closer to one another, huddling and staring at me as if they had never seen a humanoid before. The bull did not look at me directly but instead made a big show of stomping back his hind feet (hooves?) and directing the dust in my direction with a deep lowing sound. I didn't get it at first and was talking away to the ladies, snapping their pictures, asking them to pose for me. When I didn't get the hint the bull became very direct. He moved in front of his ladies and gave me a menacing look, then lifted up his head and bellowed! He stomped and bellowed again and I knew right then that if I didn't run to the car, that little wire fence might not be enough to keep me safe from the bull who was not amused by my photo session. I literally ran back up to the car and hopped in, laughing as we sped away.
Okay, so it wasn't Pamplona, but it was an interesting interaction and it reminds me of a life lesson that has been on my mind: setting boundaries with others. When there are people in our lives who have overstepped their welcome, it's okay to stomp a bit of dust in their direction to give them a clue. And if somehow those same folks don't get it at first, it's a good idea to speak up good and loud and make your intentions known. After that, if they don't get it, I say dig in, put your horns down and send them packin!
Bottom line: We teach people how to treat us, how close they can get, how much of us they can have and how long they can stay. If there are people still hanging around our lives covered in dust, we haven't yet learned to bellow.