The cattle came charging at us.
On the 22nd September, 2017, we were walking across the footpath of the Millennium woods, near Cilcain village, north Wales. There were just the two of us and we had our border collie Nell on a lead. Continue reading “Near miss: Tony and Sue’s narrow escape”
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!
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.
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.
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.
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Charged by cows while walking the Wales Coast Path. Why can’t footpaths be fenced off?
My husband and I are walking sections of the Wales Coast Path together. On Saturday the 29th of July 2017, we set out from Carmarthen and were heading for Ferryside. We entered a field – following signs for the “Wales Coast Path”. There were no cows in sight.
As we walked across the field, we noticed a group of cows were at the top of the field near the gate. I’m not sure of the breed but they seemed a mixture. Some were brown, some black and white.
We had to keep walking towards the gate, as it was the only way out of the field and we had no other option. Because we didn’t want to alarm or scare the cows, we kept as close to the fence as was possible. Sliding in mud and cow dung.
One cow started to walk towards us and then four other cows started to run directly towards us. They were charging straight at us. Both myself and my husband were terrified. At the last minute my husband shouted and raised his arms. Luckily this seemed to slow them down.
We could see the farmhouse which was about 300 yards in front of us. I shouted several times for help but no one came to assist us. We managed to get to the gate and we both felt terrified and very lucky to escape without being hurt.
My husband and I love walking along the coastal path and have so far have walked from Chepstow to Pendine. We want to walk the whole of the Wales Coast Path in due course but I don’t think I can face walking through fields much longer, as I am getting increasingly anxious.
We respect animals and appreciate the farmers immensely for the work they do. All we want is to be safe and enjoy the walk. We didn’t have a dog with us.
Recently we were out walking and passed through roughly about 15 fields. We noticed the majority of them had a fenced off walk way through or around the edge of the field. Could this be adapted where possible to ensure safety of cows and walkers?
It’s very sad when aggressive cattle prevent the public from using public footpaths.
In March 2017, I was walking with my husband, and we were following the Western Loop of the Witches’ Trail near Pendle. We had our small dog on a short lead.
Near Drivers Height Farm the footpath climbs steeply up a hill and runs next to a stone wall. We noticed a group of six cattle standing in the middle of the field. We stayed quiet and made sure to keep well away from them. Our dog did not bark or do anything to disturb them in any way.
As soon as we entered the field, the cattle immediately made their way swiftly toward us. The most prominent one – the leader – seemed to be all tan in colour and I think it might have been a bull, but I cannot say for sure. The other cows were different colours. Some were all black and others were pale. They had no calves with them.
We tried moving further away, until we were walking on very boggy ground right next to the stone wall. But they just kept coming.
I was scared and turned back. They pursued me to the gate, but my husband and the dog were still trapped inside the field. Standing at the gate I shouted and waved my hiking pole, until they moved off.
We waited until they had moved over to the other side of the field, and then we made another attempt to cross the field.
Once they saw us, they started making their way toward us again. It was very intimidating, but we remained calm and quiet and tried to give them a very wide berth. They pursued us no matter what we did.
In the end we gave up and left the field. We were forced to look for a longer yet safer route around. I was very shook up and I don’t even want to think about what would have happened had we been further from the gate and unable to get back, because the cattle kept coming and it’s such a steep ascent. The consequences could have been tragic.
It’s very sad when aggressive cattle prevent the public from using public footpaths. These animals are an accident waiting to happen. We saw no warning signs. I think there should have been very clear warnings. I also think cattle with aggressive tendencies should be kept out of fields with public rights of way.
Interestingly enough we had walked through a field just 30 minutes prior filled with black and white dairy cows, who did not bat an eyelid at our presence.
Approximate site of the incident:
Photo courtesy of MabelAmber on Pixabay
30-40 bullocks charged towards him at full gallop on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path
Last April, 2016, I had a frightening encounter with a group of bullocks in Pembrokeshire, Wales.
I was walking along the coastal path between Angle and Pembroke. It was a public footpath and well signposted. A herd of 30 or 40 bullocks slowly started to walk towards me. Then one broke into a trot and before long they were all charging towards me at a gallop.
There was nowhere I could escape to. The field was very large and long, with a hawthorn hedge and a steep drop into the sea on one side, and a high security fence on the other.
My only option was to run towards the cattle shouting and waving my arms.
Thankfully they stopped and I was able to walk away to safety. I dread to consider what would have happened if I had not decided on this option.
I didn’t see any warning signs when I entered the field, and I didn’t have a dog with me.
Luckily I wasn’t hurt, and I didn’t report the incident to anybody. I do appreciate that farmland is there to be used by livestock, but it was very frightening, and since then I have become very cautious of cattle. They are very unpredictable.
Maddi escaped by hiding under a tree. A terrifying experience.
In April this year, three of us were walking on a public footpath through Tring Park, in Herefordshire. There was a sign on a gate that warned us to be careful of cows, especially with dogs. We didn’t have a dog with us, so we weren’t particularly worried.
Suddenly, a herd of cows came over a hill and began running straight towards us. They had calves with them.
We ran away, but they chased us. To try to escape, we turned off the path and hid under a tree. The cows stopped on the path and began walking slowly towards us. They started to surround the tree. We were terrified.
Slowly, we started to walk away (instead of running). Thankfully they didn’t follow us.
When we got near the gate out of the field, and thinking we were safe, we stopped to talk. Suddenly, the cows suddenly started running at us again. We raced to the gate and managed to get away.
We didn’t have a dog with us, so there was no reason for the attack. I have no doubt that if we hadn’t got out of their way by hiding under the tree, they would have trampled us.
Luckily nobody was hurt, but we were badly frightened. Afterwards we reported it to the Woodland Trust (who own the park), but as far as we know there has been no further investigation.
More people should be aware of how dangerous cows can be. Possibly we need to fence off paths when they pass through a field of cattle.
One man went walking with his dog. Next minute, he was running for his life.
One man went walking with his dog, and happened to enter a field of cows. Next minute, he was running for his life.
He captured the terrifying incident on his smart phone and, later, posted it on Twitter as a lesson to others.
“This happened at Pishiobury [near Welwyn Garden City]. I just cried and ran. My dog had to fend for himself. Literally the worst thing ever.”
NEVER EVER GOING NEAR COWS AGAIN MY VOICE SAYS IT ALL 😭😭😭 pic.twitter.com/WsxHdPIqKZ
— Maxwell (@JMaweiii) August 1, 2017
Listen to it with the sound turned on.
Video on Twitter
Posted with the permission of @JMaxwell.
Ilse and her husband meet a bull on the narrow Pembrokeshire Coastal path.
I live in Belgium and was in Wales with my husband on a four-day hiking holiday along the famous Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. On the 13th July, 2017, we set off from Milford Haven, heading for a B&B in Dale.
We were near St Ishmaels. There was just the two of us, and we didn’t have a dog. We had just passed some old bunkers, and the path was narrow with lots of shrubs. To the left was the cliff and the sea. To our right was a barbed wire fence and a meadow.
Suddenly we saw a bull. Behind him were several cows. They were right on the path. The bull was making a lot of noise.
We were so frightened. Shaking like leaves.
Luckily, there was a nearby gate, and we could escape through the gate and into the meadow. Safely on the other side of the fence, we took a photograph of the bull (see above).
Suddenly, he turned around and went away, just as if he wanted to return back to the farm. Thinking it was safe, we left the meadow and started back along the path. To our horror, the bull and the cows returned. We were so scared, in shock, and almost paralysed by fear, but we managed to escape through the fence again.
Eventually the animals left. We were too frightened to go forwards, so we turned back and tried to make our way from there to St Ishmaels. We walked for miles and miles. Got lost. Eventually we had to catch a bus in order to get to our B&B in Dale.
We weren’t injured, but we were very badly scared.
The strange thing about is that the bull and the cows were actually on the very narrow coastal path, and we had to escape into the meadow. It should have been the opposite way round!
Suppose we had encountered the bull at another point, where the coast path then was even narrower, and where there was no fence to get safely behind? On our left side were cliffs. What would have happened?
I didn’t report the problem at the time, but later I sent some pictures of the beautiful coast in Wales to http://www.pembrokeshirecoast.org.uk/ and I also sent the bull picture and our story of the bull in the neighbourhood of St Ishmael’s. I got an answer from a lady called Rebecca Evans, and she told me she will be meeting the farmer next week.
As walkers, we know there is advice on how to walk across a large field with livestock, such as cows, bulls, ponies, etc. But being confronted by a bull and cows on a narrow path with no way out… what is the advice for that specific situation?
Cattle Safety 