I recently sold an old cow from our herd.  She was a very shrewd old girl with big sharp horns.  She had kept those big horns through the years by shrewdly evading capture in the spring when most worming and dehorning is done.  The big horns allowed her to rule over the cow sisterhood.  She could easily bully herself to the front of the trough where she would get the first bite and the last one later.  If she desired to stand and eat in an area where another sister might already be feasting the old girl would just remove that sister from that spot.  Most of the time this transaction would be done swiftly and efficiently with the other sister simply moving on without hesitation but sometimes a sister wouldn’t be paying enough attention and would get a swift horn right in the stomach.  That sister would be paying attention much more keenly the next time.  She ruled this way for many years with the dreaded horns of retribution.  I’d be lying if I said it was tough to see her go.  It wasn’t.  I don’t go in for those strong arm types.  She was always standoffish and cold.  Was always too confident with her interactions concerning humans.  With no feeling of regret I loaded her highfalutin butt in the trailer and someone is probably eating her as we speak.    I say death to tyrants.
I knew what was going to happen after she was gone.  The queen hadn’t been gone but a few days when the sisters decided it was time to see who would rule next.  They had spent a few days getting along just fine in their free Utopian sisterhood but I could sense a power grab coming.  I was pouring out feed a few days after the old queen had gone when I noticed the sisters weren’t coming up to the trough.  The bull had walked up and was eating and paying no attention.  He had learned years ago that woman problems were best left to women.  He would eat and watch what was to come with complete indifference to the eventual outcome.  The sisters were just standing there looking around.  I poured more feed out and tried to coax them to eat.  It was then that one of the older sisters stepped forward and started to take a bite.  She had had a very nice set of  horns at one time years ago before we lopped them off.  She didn’t quite get a bite when another sister ran up and slammed her in the side very forcefully.  The power grab had finally came down to two capable sisters.  I liked both of these sisters.  They had always been pleasant and agreeable with their interactions concerning humans.  They showed the proper respect.  They knew their place.  Yet here they were pawing dirt in the air and slamming into each other.  A sister fight consists of the head butt and the push.  They go head to head until one or the other has had enough.  This may take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour.  These two sisters went about fifteen minutes.  They both played fair with no low blows to the utters.  The rest of the sisters followed each blow closely and monitored the progress.  Finally one sister couldn’t take it any more and turned and ran.   The other sister, with the rest of the sisterhood close behind, chased and got a few more jabs in for good measure.  There is a new queen sister now.  She’s tough but fair.  The bull still doesn’t care.