Duramax and Allison: The Origins of the Bull

What’s a typical day for a bull? Well, I like charging things. Snorting. Cursing the day someone ever invented the red cape. Typical bull stuff.
Not a bad life, right? But it isn’t always easy living for bulls. Sometimes you end up on the rodeo circuit tossin’ cowboys and living on the road the whole year. Sometimes you get stuck with a rancher who thinks branding makes you look tough. (Word to the wise: It’s tacky. Always has been. Always will be. And it hurts!) Point is, it isn’t always smooth mooing when you’re a bull.
I left the rodeo circuit back in 2001. Upper management wasn’t too thrilled with my performances. Something about “bucking too much” or “sending cowboys to teams of psychiatrists” after they were unable to break me. Whatever. Bottom line is, they left me stranded on the road.
I thought I was a goner.
Then this big ol’ truck pulled up and I laid eyes on Max and Al for the first time. “You need a ride, fella?” they asked. I didn’t see how it was possible, what with me being a giant bull and all. And they didn’t have a trailer. I scoffed, “Aw, that’s adorable. You think you can handle me.”
Never again will I underestimate Max and Al. The moment my snide remark rolled off my tongue, they dropped the tailgate and I was hoisted up into the bed. I laid down and licked the back window. Not sure why, just something I do. (I am a bull, after all.) It tasted right. Tasted like home.
They asked me where I was going and I said, “Anywhere but the chophouse.” They laughed. “Steak ain’t on the menu where we’re going. And it never will be.”
The rest is history. What’s better than having a pit bull guard your house? Having a real bull guard your house. I don’t bark and I don’t play fetch, but I make a heckuva pet and I’m completely housebroken. It’s a way better gig than the rodeo. No need for me to be a beast of burden for these guys. They handle all the hard work themselves. I couldn’t ask for a better life.
And no branding!