It's Not Every Day You Get to See a Herd of Bulls Break Loose and Run Wild in a Boston Suburb
*Record scratch.* Freeze frame. Voiceover. We're bulls. This is North Attleboro, MA. You're probably wondering how we got here. ..."
Source - Eight escaped bulls caused havoc as they raced out of a rodeo at a North Attleboro mall on Sunday.
According to the North Attleboro Fire Department, eight bulls escaped from the rodeo at the Emerald Square Mall around 12:30 p.m. One remains on the run.
Video provided to Boston 25 News by a viewer shows the herd of bulls knocking over a chainlink fence before streaking into a parking lot.
Fire officials say the bulls then raced towards the woods behind BJ’s Restaurant and Brewhouse.
Officials say one of the bulls was captured shortly after escaping but the remaining seven managed to elude North Attleboro police officers, firefighters, and members of the Massachusetts Environmental Police.
Around 4:30 p.m., six of the remaining seven loose bulls were found stuck behind a fence at Prescott Street home in Attleboro. North Attleboro Fire, North Attleboro Police, Attleboro Police, and members from the rodeo at the mall and New England Rodeo then safely corralled the six bulls into a trailer.
Let's get one important piece of business out of the way. And that is to thank the members of our law enforcement community for a job well done. Capturing seven out of eight rampaging bulls is batting .875. Which is a pretty damned impressive average given that they probably spent 0.0 minutes at the police academy training on rounding up deadly, pointy-horned, 2-ton murder tractors. Even if the stupid critters got themselves stuck in some suburbanite's side yard and were too dumb to find their way out the way they came, that's a good collar.
It's been a pretty bleak year for the reputation of Massachusetts law enforcement. And cops could use the win. Even the Environmental Police. The only interaction I've ever had with one was a lady who chewed me out for putting a bag of trash from my car into a trash barrel at a field used for driving golf balls. Apparently it's meant for some other category of refuse. She was very nonspecific about whatever the applicable statute was. She simply gave me the impression I was the biggest case she'd cracked all month. But enough about me. This is a big W for these public servants. The best job of stopping a bunch of Bulls we've seen in this parts since the 2017 Celtics. (Dad joke. I apologize for nothing.)
That said, this is another example of why I'm not always proud to be a Masshole. Because even though we pride ourselves on having a few champion boxers and a world class mobster or two, we're not nearly as tough as we think we are.
I've traveled some. I've been to Alaska a handful of times and traveled through the southwest. And they are a different breed than we are. No matter how rugged we think we might, to them, we'll forever be the guy from back East in every western who wears a derby and a suit & tie and acts all sniffy when the train he's on is getting robbed by real men.
First of all, we have our rodeos at the mall. Like it's a jeans sale at Old Navy. The rodeo is a proud American tradition. Something unique in all the world that defines who we are as a people. In Massachusetts, we treat one like a club where old people in track suits and New Balances go walking on a Tuesday morning.
Second, we can't keep our bulls penned up. Even for a few hours. Which seems to me to be the No. 1 prerequisite of getting a decent rodeo off the ground. And honestly, how hard can that be? A few dozen linear foot of chainlink attached to some posts weighted down with concrete bases and those critters are at your mercy. But our parking lots and neighborhoods turn into Pamplona in a matter of minutes.
Finally, the kinds of true American outdoorsmen I'm thinking of wouldn't need to call 911 like this was a bunch of teens getting unruly at the food court. They'd have taken matters into their own hands. Jumped on their trusty steeds. Formed a posse. Rounded up these doggies, roped 'em, pulled, and branded 'em like Rowdy Yates in Rawhide. They'd be eating Cowboy steaks made from that missing bull as we speak. And have the other seven butchered and hanging in the walk-in fridge at BJ's Restaurant and Alehouse.
So to my fellow Massholes, let's either get better at doing the things most of the country does like it's nothing, or quit trying altogether. This is one sport we'll ever be winning championships at. Let's stick to what we know.