Pancho had a temper and looked like this

Pancho was the name of all the bulls who lived on the Reed Station ranch in the 1940’s and 1950’s, before our Tiburon subdivision was developed.  I knew Pancho’s successor as a child.  He was mean, didn’t have a nose ring, and lived in the lower corral up the dirt path from our house.  I walked up to the corral, leaned over the fence and watched him stand around chewing dry grass, staring straight ahead. Continue reading “my own bullfight” »