When I was a kid, I was combining oats in late summer, for my Uncle. I roaded the old John Deere combine back to his house and parked it, noting a dead bovine in his pasture, not a huge distance from his house. A day or two later, I was back at his farm, this time dumping off a blade from my Dad's tractor, that we'd borrowed. He had an old fenced in lot in back of his hog house that wasn't used anymore and the lot was now used for implement storage. I noted this string of something heading into the lot and back a ways. I followed it on foot and discovered my Uncle's dead Angus bull, all bloated up back there. It was the worst smell I've ever encountered. Dead stuff smells bad enough, but this was much worse for some reason. I didn't examine the bull but went back and took the blade off, managing to smash my finger with the three point hitch's upper arm. My nail came off and when it came back it grew in weird-looking, which it is to this day.
A couple of days later I talked to my cousin. He said my Uncle said the bull hadn't been struck by lightening (as anybody would figure) but had been killed. It had been mutilated. Somebody had taken the bull's testicles, scrotum and penis as well as a strip up where his horns would be, if he had been a horned breed. Some other stuff too. He had been drained of blood, so I don't know what the mysterious, stinking liquid was.
