There are many, many things about the film Jurassic Park that I can get irritated about, and even more in the sequels, but one that stands head and shoulders above the rest is the bit about the veggie-saurus. Here they are, stranded in a tree, and this five-million-ton critter is blowing snot all over them, and they don’t have to be concerned for their safety because the thing won’t actually eat them. Hello? Elephants? Hippos? Moose? Pint-sized, apparently docile heifers?

My father often told the heifer story. It seems that he was down by the creek, maybe working on a fence line, on a hot summer day, and said heifer approached him and began peacefully licking his arm. He tolerated this behavior for a bit, and then got irritated, at which point he gave her a good shove. Next thing he knew he found himself sitting in the creek, with the heifer standing over him, daring him to swat her again. He slid backwards to the other bank and climbed out, keeping a weather eye on her, and eventually she wandered off to find a salt block. He thought no more of the incident until the next day.

The minx lay in wait for him. She hid amongst a small grove of trees and watched him head out across the pasture. When she saw that he was in the very middle of the open field, away from fences, trees, or even large boulders to hide behind, she went after him. She hit him square in the middle of his back, knocked him flat, and “wallowed” him. He later spoke quite gratefully about the fact that she did not have horns. He escaped by grabbing her tender nose and twisting it until she raised her head, and then running for the fence. He got three or four steps before she got him again. This performance was repeated five or six times before he was able to get to safety.

The next day he learned that no bones were broken, but his muscles were so sore that he couldn’t lift his head without grabbing himself by the hair. I do not recall what, if anything, happened to the heifer. I do recall, though, many years later, when my sister Laura and her husband found themselves in possession of an aggressive bull. One day I went over there, and the bull was nowhere in sight, but Laura’s freezer was packed with meal-sized containers of “bad bull stew.” So you never know.

The veggie-sauri are all around us, in modern shapes and sizes, and I think it’s safe to assume that they might have a vested interest in cleaning your clock.