Sure brings back memories of fishing the Monacy Creek in Pa. with my pop after WWII, where a nasty bull lived in the meadow between the farm lane and the stretch of good water. The farmer had a chain around his neck that was attached to a log that just rested on the ground. That sucker ran pop and I out of the meadow lots of times while the log was tripping him up and beating the crap out of his front legs. I remember thinking that the bull at home bent up a 2" pipe enclosure pretty bad one time and just how much good the barbed wire fence would do if the log dragger decided to come for us. Never did though. Thanks for bringing back a great, although a bit emotional, memory of my dad and I fishing.
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