However, in an outbreak of bovine cleverness, they seem to have identified me as the human who lives in the apple garden and have taken to following me around the nature reserve when I am hunting for the cats.
Horus is not impressed and as a result won't come in this evening. I've seen him several times -- indeed, I've been honoured with head butts, leg-rubs and purring. But in. Oh no, we won't do that.
It's a nice mild night. That is part of it too, especially as the bullocks have now moved off and lost interest.