Old Hank was famous for two things.
Growing the biggest pumpkins in the county…
…and talking far too much.
If you stopped to buy eggs, he’d tell you about his pumpkins.
If you stopped to ask about the weather, he’d somehow bring up his pumpkins.
But nothing—not even his pumpkins—compared to how much he bragged about his prize breeding bull.
“I’ve got the finest bull in three counties!” he’d announce.
“People drive more than eighty miles just to bring their cows here.”
He’d slap the fence proudly.
“Costs them three hundred dollars a visit.”
Then he’d lower his voice like he was revealing a state secret.
“Tomorrow alone, he’s got six appointments at six different farms.”
Everyone in town had heard the speech.
Usually more than once.
One afternoon, Hank was sitting outside the feed store when his neighbor, Earl, wandered over.
“You really expect me to believe one bull can handle six farms in one day?”
Hank grinned.
“You come by tomorrow evening.”
“You’ll see.”
The next day, Earl decided to satisfy his curiosity.
Just before sunset, he drove over to Hank’s farm.
He walked through the pasture expecting to see the famous animal standing proudly.
Instead…
The legendary bull was stretched out flat in the grass.
Tongue hanging out.
Eyes half closed.
Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
Earl laughed.
“So…”
“This is the great champion?”
The bull didn’t even move.
Earl leaned against the fence.
“You don’t look so legendary now.”
Still no response.
After another minute, Earl shook his head.
“Hank’s been telling everybody you’re the strongest bull in the county.”
The bull slowly opened one eye.
Then, to Earl’s complete astonishment, quietly muttered,
“Would you mind keeping your voice down?”
Earl jumped backward.
“You… you can talk?”
The bull sighed.
“Of course I can.”
“I’ve just been too tired to mention it.”
Earl stared in disbelief.
“I’ve never heard of a talking bull!”
The bull rolled his eyes.
“And I’ve never heard of a farmer who knew when to stop making appointments.”
Earl burst out laughing.
“So Hank wasn’t exaggerating?”
The bull groaned.
“Exaggerating?”
“He booked me solid.”
“Six farms.”
“Two photo sessions.”
“A county fair interview.”
“And some fool from the newspaper wanted me to pose beside a tractor.”
Earl could barely breathe from laughing.
“What are you going to do tomorrow?”
The bull closed his eyes again.
“Nothing.”
“I’ve already called in sick.”
“You called in?”
“No.”
“I asked one of the chickens to do it.”
Just then Hank came walking across the field.
“There he is!”
“My superstar!”
Hank proudly patted the exhausted bull on the shoulder.
“Best investment I ever made.”
The bull whispered to Earl,
“Watch this.”
Hank smiled.
“He’s so dedicated.”
“He never complains.”
The bull looked directly at Earl and quietly said,
“I do.”
“He just never listens.”
Earl laughed so hard he had to sit down on an old fence post.
As he stood to leave, he looked back one last time.
“If you could ask for anything in the world…”
“…what would it be?”
The bull didn’t hesitate for even a second.
“A calendar…”
“…and a union representative.”
Earl laughed all the way back to his truck.
The next morning, the whole county heard a new story.
Not about the strongest bull in three counties.
But about the only bull anyone had ever known whose biggest dream wasn’t more cows…
…it was a well-earned vacation.
