One of the worst things about being attacked by a cow is that no one takes it very seriously afterwards. My partner Claire and I found that out the hard way after a walk in Devon.
We were making our way through a large field on a public footpath, heading towards a herd of cows milling around a stile. Most were ignoring us, but one seemed different – larger and more malevolent than the others. It began to stare intensely at us, and as we carried on, it started to walk slowly in our direction.
Hoping it might be a curious cow, rather than an aggressive one, we branched out to the left to give it a wider berth. But the cow then broke into a full-on run. At this point we froze, thinking it might slow down if we didn’t spook it. Only when it was almost on top of us, showing no sign of stopping, did I crack and scream: ‘RUN!’
The cow ground to a halt, momentarily shocked at the sound of my voice, but then reared up on its hind legs like a stallion and leapt after me as I sprinted away. I had no idea how close it was but Claire said afterwards that the cow had its head down as it charged after me and was only a foot or so from my back. She was terrified I was going to be trampled in front of her eyes.
In the end we were lucky. As we went round a corner it stopped chasing, and we were able to scramble through a hedge to escape. Afterwards we felt extremely fortunate not to have been seriously hurt. But if we were hoping for sympathy after being charged by an animal which weighs some 500kg (about the same as a polar bear), we didn’t find it.
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