Terror At The Lazy 5 Ranch II: When Animals Attack

A few weeks ago, we headed back to the Lazy 5 Ranch. You would've thought we learned our lesson during our first trip, but we're gluttons for punishment animal lovers.

The highlight of this particular trip was seeing this odd beast, which is either a Dr. Seuss creature or a genetic experiment gone horribly awry:



Like our last visit, we saw numerous Quick Birds Of Death. You know what? They're kind of cute when they're young:



Here's a picture of a small ostrich next to its mother:



But a Quick Bird Of Death ceases to be cute when it's big. And sticking its head in your car:



It's even less cute when it's spilling food all over the place during a feeding frenzy:



And the Quick Bird Of Death is downright hideous when you discover it has spikes on its tongue. Don't believe me? Check this out:



Unfortunately, this wasn't the most terrifying part of our visit. We later discovered why they post these signs near the entrance:



We were following a car that was harassing a Texas longhorn steer. The Texas longhorn steer is the largest land animal and is nearly five times as big as an elephant. Compare:



And now, a picture of an elephant that I took at the NC Zoo today:



See? They're HUGE. A Texas longhorn steer has horns that are forty feet long. A Texas longhorn steer can reach speeds of up to 140 MPH. Its favorite foods are rhinoceroses, eucalyptus leaves, and frightened humans. It can also shoot lasers out of its eyes.

They are very dangerous beasts.

Apparently, the people in front of us hadn't read National Audubon Society Field Guide To Animals That Will Royally Fuck You Up because there was a guy sitting in the back of the hatchback, taunting the longhorns by mooing and shaking a feed bucket at them. After the car moved on, a longhorn walked to the middle of the road.

And he glared at us.

"He's eying us," I nervously said to Ella.

"Yes. He most definitely is," she replied, equally nervous.

"He's going to charge us, isn't he?"

"I'm almost certain of it."

We sat there for a few minutes, waiting for him to move.

"He's not going to move, is he?"

"No."

"What should I do?"

"I don't know. Inch forward."

So I moved forward ever so slightly. He continued to stare at us, sizing us up, probably trying to decide which one of us to eat first. I inched forward a few more feet. That's when he came at us.

Have you ever experienced the sensation of having a horned laser-beam-eyed human-eating creature coming at you? It sucks.

He moved to the side as he closed in on our car. As we passed him, he gave our car a little nudge that flipped our vehicle six times. Luckily, no one was hurt and the car wasn't even scratched (despite the fact that we heard a very loud THUD! as he hit our car (or that could've just been the sound of my testicles hitting my throat)).

When we decide to return (which we will because we love the place), we'll be touring the park in a tank.