"But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only." Matthew 24:36.
I shipped some cattle to market this morning, and while loading them on the truck a bull took a swipe at me.
Now bulls are bigger than cows by a good margin, and as the day followeth the night, they have greater reach.
I don't often work with bulls from inside the pen. It's just the nature of the operation; while cows get handled and worked with 4-5-6 times a year, I only see the bulls in the corral once or twice a year, and even then they just get sorted off.
Eventually they go to market, though, which requires a bit of handling. I'm always cautious, and I'm pretty good at reading bulls and keeping myself safe and in a safe position.
Sometimes the difference between safe and unsafe is pretty small.
The 2,200 lb. bull kicked at me, and the tips of his hoof just barely grazed the left side of my neck. The kick was lightning fast and left no time for me to flinch away. I was right on the edge of too close, but I wasn't over the line. Another inch closer and the blow might have been fatal. There's a lot of important stuff in the neck; big arteries and veins and a trachea. I think there's a gizzard in there, too.
But I wasn't an inch closer. Skill and experience (and sure, a touch of luck) had me in the right place.
No big deal really. I remember the day the starboard main mount of an F-14 broke loose during a landing on Nimitz and missed me by about the same margin. Took the Unit One (aid bag) right off my hip. That wasn't a big deal either. A miss is a miss, and a miss is not a hit. Nothing to get hysterical about.
Worth thinking about, though, and reassessing risk management and mitigation.
Then you get back in there and carry out the plan of the day.