Blog

Should I sue after a cattle attack?

Should you sue? If you were injured by cattle, the answer is YES. But the process is not always straightforward.

David was seriously injured after he was attacked by cows while crossing a field on a public footpath. But the farmer wasn’t insured, and that meant David had difficulty finding a firm of solicitors willing to take his case. After he did manage to start legal proceedings, there were delays, and then came a pitiful offer…

Read more about David’s experiences here: Thinking of suing? Pitfalls and delays.

Irish story – Ann Doherty

“I know I’m so lucky to be alive.”

In this video clip, Ann Doherty describes how she was attacked by a bull in 2010. The incident happened when Ann found the road blocked by cows, got out of her car, and wandered into the bull’s field, by mistake. Continue reading “Irish story – Ann Doherty”

Saved by my bag – Franco’s story

Franco describes his ‘cowfrontation’ and how he fought off the attack.

It was February 2008, and I was walking along the banks of the River Arun, East Sussex.

The path was on top of an embankment which in turn followed the course of the river. There was a large herd of Jersey Cows in the field next to the embankment. Three of them were on it, blocking my way. So I avoided them by looping around them, going down the slope of the embankment and coming up.

As I came back up the slope to rejoin the path, I glanced around and one of the animals was giving me something of an ‘evil eye’. If I could describe this look, it was the look of someone whom I owed money. Not a nice look. But I dismissed this sense of apprehension. I grew up in Somerset and walked through fields of cows umpteen times without much ado.

But I had a bad feeling about this cow, and I was about to have that sense of foreboding vindicated.

As I got back on the flat top of the embankment, I heard a sound and saw that cow was charging me, head down, with only several meters of distance the between me and it – closing fast.

Outrunning it was out of the question. I think I said something like ‘Sh*t!’, but I reacted quickly. I swung at it with my day sack and yelled cusses, which deflected its charge. That reaction may have saved me from serious injury, or worse, because there was no way I was going to stop it by saying ‘nice cow’ in a gentle voice.

It came for me again, and I deflected it a second time, swinging with my bag. And then a third, I think. I can’t remember.

However many times it was, I was now off the embankment and down onto the flat plain next to the river. I was conscious that the ground was soggy and damp, and I was thinking two things. First, I might be driven into the river – bad news, as I cannot swim. Second, the entire herd might join the attack, in which case I knew I was really in for it. But, for some reason, the others carried on grazing indifferently during the whole incident. Just as well.

For around five minutes, there was a kind of stand-off between me and the cow – it clearly wanted to charge me down, but my aggressive response was deterring it.

Escape was problematic. I needed to get back up that embankment and out of the field but I could hardly do that while I had a 1000kg of meat, fat and bone wanting to trample me into the mud, blocking my escape.

I picked up some stray pole which, happily, was lying at my feet, and started trying to lunge at the cow’s eye. I was beginning to get a bit desperate and panic was starting to rise. The confrontation finally ended when I yelled ‘F*ck off!’ with as much vehemence as I could muster. That did the trick. The cow turned tail and ran off.

Relieved, I dropped the pole and then made my way along the sticky mud to the stile – about a 100 meters distant. Phew!

As I cleared the stile, I saw two young women on the path, more or less on the same spot where I had just been attacked. I was tempted to yell a warning to them but, as they were walking unmolested, I thought better of it. They would have thought some lunatic was harassing them. I was still stunned by the experience and could scarcely believed what had just happened.

That incident was toward the end of the walk and I jumped on a train at Arundel, back to London, shortly thereafter. As I looked out of the window at the very embankment where I had just had this drama, I reflected on my experience, a very unsettling one.

I told work colleagues the story. The episode was so ridiculous that the it made a great anecdote to tell people down the pub. Given the whole point of the walk was to walk off a hangover from an evening of alcoholic excess the night before, the whole thing was quite comical, from one perspective. But I was not laughing at the time. I nearly ended up with something a lot worse than a hangover!

Reflections after the attack

Since then, I have been on loads and loads of country walks and there have been occasions when I have had to walk through herds of cattle, which have always been tense experiences. It’s not always possible to avoid them – not on places like the South West Coast Path, for instance, unless the advice is to clamber down a cliff and then clamber back up to get around them.

This was a strange incident. None of the triggers one normally associates with these attacks was there. There were no calves. I had no dog. Yet it happened anyway. I never thought of reporting it and I regret doing that. If the experience is ever repeated, I certainly would. But I am in no hurry to go through anything like that again.

I have used humour to lighten the story as that is my way of coping. I do not want to give the impression that I felt amused at the time. Not at all. When it was happening, I was scared and, at one point, very scared.

Still, the compensations of country walking are too great to give it up on account of this one ‘cowfrontation’. But when I so much as see a dried cow pat in the field, I think that there could be trouble if I am not careful. I make sure I walk with the bag slung around my shoulder … ready to do battle.

 

Killer cows and farmers

Nearly 50% of farmers report having been attacked by cows during calving.

In this article, Libby considers the risk to farmers from their cattle, and summarises the existing guidance.

Cattle: Farmers need to be aware of the dangers

In fact, it seems that they are more at risk than walkers.

From 2000 – 2015 there were 74 fatalities involving cattle recorded by HSE.

  • Eighteen of these fatal accidents have involved members of the public,
  • The remaining 56 have been fatal accidents involving farm workers.

Continue reading “Killer cows and farmers”

On the Thames Path: Peter’s Story

Peter was pursued by cows on the Thames Path, and is reluctant to walk any more long-distance trails.

In May 2017, I was walking the last few days of the Thames Path and was approaching Newbridge in heavy rain. At Bablock Hythe, I met a couple from Virginia walking the other way. They said they had passed some excitable cattle but, being country people, knew how to handle them.

The last field before Newbridge is large and curved, and I did not see cattle until I was halfway across. They were maybe 50 yards away, but one stood up and started running towards me, and the entire herd followed.

There was no escape from the field as the path ran along the banks of the Thames. I noticed there were boats moored by the bank and knew I could jump into one if the situation became critical.

When the cattle got too close, I turned round and spoke sharply to the ringleader. They stopped. But, as soon as I started walking again, they pursued at a trot. This happened three times and eventually I reached the gate out of the field.

For the remainder of the walk I avoided cattle, in one case taking a very lengthy detour to do so.

The cattle’s behaviour may have been affected by thunder which I heard an hour previously. I didn’t see any calves with them, but they could have been there. I tend to do my multi-day walks in September, well past the calving season and at a time when cattle have been out in the fields for some months and are used to seeing walkers. But this walk was done in May.

Further up the Thames Path, near Lechlade, there was a similar incident. Fortunately, on this occasion there was an electric fence between the path and the cattle.

I have walked three National Trails, including the South West Coast Path, but now I’m not sure if I want to walk any more long-distance paths because I’m worried about entering any fields with cattle. Often they are not apparent when one enters the field.

One solution would be to require landowners to install electric fences separating the footpath from livestock. I would like to see this become mandatory where a right of way passes through fields with cattle. Grants could be given to landowners to facilitate these fences.

Farmer killed by her cow

We focus on walkers, but this death reminds us that farmers are at a much greater risk

IMG_0174

Another death

Sad news from Northern Ireland. Thelma Gorman, a respected cattle breeder, was found on her farm yesterday afternoon after an “incident” with a cow.

Sadly, despite the efforts of the air ambulance, she died at the scene. Continue reading “Farmer killed by her cow”

The trampling season: statistics on cow attacks

The commonly cited stats on cow attacks put the risk of being killed at nearly 3 billion to one. Not a very large risk, and so easily dismissed as insignificant.

But these statistics are fundamentally flawed. Find out why the risk is likely to be much larger, at around 35 thousand to one.

Read our opinion piece: AN ALTERNATIVE VIEW ON CATTLE ATTACK STATISTICS

 

Near-miss – Sharon F

I threw myself into the gorse bush. Utterly terrifying. Thought I was going to die.

I ALWAYS steer clear of cows. I look for them and if I see any around I go elsewhere.

I was on Exmoor, near Tavistock, taking my well-behaved little Labrador for a walk. When I parked up, I saw a herd with very young calves all heading peaceably up the road in the opposite direction. I watched as they disappeared from view.

Thinking it was safe, I got out of my car and began walking with my dog. We were heading in a westerly direction alongside the Down Road, which bisects this part of the moor. Within moments I heard a cow bellow in the distance. Immediately, I stopped and checked to see if there were any cows in sight, but I could see nothing for 360 degrees in all directions. Reassured, I continued walking.

I’d only got about 20 yards from my car when I looked behind me, and saw a brown cow trotting towards me and my dog. She had come from further up the road, and must have been hidden around a bend out of sight. She was 20 yards from reaching my car and coming up fast.

There were nobody in sight. No humans. No other cows. I couldn’t see any calves.

I instinctively knew this was trouble. I wouldn’t be able to get back to my car in time, and had nowhere else to run or hide. Then I spotted some ferns and a gorse thicket on the other side of the road, about 5 yards into the moor. I knew it was my only defence, so I turned and tried to walk as calmly as I could towards the gorse bush.

If the cow changed direction, I knew this would confirm she was after me.

The animal began to cross the road, heading straight for me. She was about 30 yards away, when she broke into a run, charging towards me and my dog.

I ran into the thicket and got behind the gorse bush which was spindly and prickly. I thought if necessary I could get into the middle of the bush, right in between the thorny branches. At this time, I still had tight hold of my dog by his harness, was trying to pull him towards me, and to crouch down to hide. I could see the cow peering into the ferns and bracken, trying to locate me. I remembered that you should let your dog go, so I began to release him.

Suddenly, the cow charged. My dog slipped his harness and legged it. The beast chased me around the gorse bush. It was literally right behind me, and kept on following me. Round and round we went. Several times. I was terrified.

It was difficult to keep going. The bush was only about 1 meter in diameter and surrounded by thick ferns that were impeding my movement. Several times the cow stopped, but I could see it staring at me through the opposite side of the bush.

I’m 54 years old and was beginning to run out of energy. I was scared witless, knowing the cow wasn’t gonna give up chasing me round the bush = like a scene out of the goddamn Magic Roundabout – until it got me. When it was practically on top of me, I knew I had no choice but to jump into the middle of the gorse.

Inside the bush, I felt I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared. My energy was sapped. I was shaking. My legs like jelly.

Still the cow wouldn’t give up. It kept eyeballing me and attempting to ram me inside the bush. So I began shouting. I yelled at it, over and over. The noise startled the cow for a moment, but it didn’t stop attacking the bush. I was trying to grab the thorny branches around me to protect myself.

I was desperately looking for help and I called out to my dog. I think the cow must have seen him, because it moved off. Then my dog appeared and sat down a few meters away from the gorse bush. I looked towards the road and saw the cow had crossed over the road and was standing on the opposite side.

To my relief, I saw a people-carrier van drive slowly past. The driver was woman. She had her window down and was looking in my direction. I screamed for help and she stopped her vehicle. I shouted out and said that the cow was attacking me. At that point, the cow looked like it was coming for me again. The driver saw it and she reversed back to scare the animal away.

At this point, a big green transit van pulled to a stop in the middle of the road, unfortunately blocking my view of the cow. The woman driver was shouting for me to run to her car and I saw her open the back door. But I wasn’t sure I could make it because, when I last saw the cow, it was the same distance from her car as I was.

With the cow hidden from view, I knew I had no other choice but to chance it. I must try to run as fast as I could muster to the car.

So I jumped out of the bush and set off. But my legs buckled underneath me. I fell over flat onto my face. I could hear the woman in the car screaming at me to get up and move because the cow was charging at me again. I got up and made it to the car, somehow, with my dog in tow and the cow bearing down on us.

When I reached the car, I realised my dog couldn’t jump in. Too high. It was a big MPV. I had to lift him up and throw him in. Then throw myself in after.

I closed the door and collapsed on the back seat behind the female driver. I was absolutely drained and terrified. Could barely speak or breathe, as the woman began asking what happened and if I was ok. She let me rest for a few minutes then asked where my car was. It was only 40 yards away.

As we pulled up alongside my car, I saw the cow walking past with a calf in tow.

With the cow out of the way, I needed to go back to find my dog’s harness and the woman drove me back to the scene of the attack. The harness was not in the thicket, where my dog had slipped out of it, but outside near the road. I have no idea how it got there. The lady picked it up for me and then drove me back to my car again.

I didn’t dare get out of her vehicle until the cow was out of sight. I asked the lady to wait until I was safely back in my car, which she did. I could not thank her enough for helping me. She was quite knowledgeable about cow behaviour and told me that cows hide their calves when they go off feeding. The calf was probably hidden nearby.

Later, much later, I phoned my vet who is my friend and also runs a farm with horses, cows and sheep. I broke down sobbing as I was recalling the attack and she said I did the right thing to escape the cow by running into the thicket. She explained that cows have poor eyesight. If it had been able to see me properly, it would have just charged and rammed the entire bush, with me in it. She said it was probably my dog that got the cow’s attention initially, as it was protecting the calf it had hidden.

My vet friend told me that, to the cow, my dog is a predator. Just like a wolf. Because I was with the dog I became a threat by association. She said that cattle become fixated and won’t stop until the threat is eliminated. She also said she has some black cows that she won’t go near when they are calving because they become pure evil. And she’s a vet!

According to my friend, the moor is common land. FIRST priority is for animal grazing, and SECOND for people on it – for whatever reason. She said there was no point reporting the incident because no one would take any notice, or care, because of this hierarchical rule.

Needless to say I am somewhat upset and traumatised. Especially when a lot of my friends and family (without asking the details or acknowledging my abject fear) think my ordeal (being attacked by a mad/angry cow) is clearly hilarious. What’s hilarious about total unadulterated fear?

This incident came from nowhere. I can honestly say the fear I felt was akin to treading water in a shark infested ocean on my own with no boat and no life jacket. Nothing and no one around to help and no escape. Utterly terrifying. I thought I was going to die.

Webmaster’s note: Sharon, thank you very much for sharing your story. We don’t seem to have your email address. You offered some help with social media campaigns. If you are still interested, perhaps you could please contact us?