Tex the Longhorn busted his big red ball. But there’s a happy ending
Tex just wanted to play ball — but it’s hard to know a barbed wire fence is coming when you dribble with your head down.
The ensuing sadness is peak internet adorable.
“GET THIS CUTIE A NEW BALL,” said one of hundreds of comments, after Ima Survivor Donkey and Farm Animal Sanctuary posted video last month of the ball deflating as Tex frolicked to bounce it off his horn again. “#JusticeForTex.”
The video was posted on Feb. 22, and as of Friday morning, it had been shared more than 1,000 times and viewed nearly 100,000 times.
Tex is a Longhorn bull who’s lived at the sanctuary in Cleveland, Texas since 2017, when he was stranded after Hurricane Harvey, Lester Morrow, who runs Ima Survivor, told McClatchy.
“He was just a calf then, but he’s a full-grown man now,” Morrow said. “His horns were 36 inches last spring when the vet came out to de-worm. I’m betting they are closer to 48 now.”
Morrow’s home and land were flooded as well in the storm, he said, and after picking up the pieces and putting his fences back up, he began adopting farm animals from nearby counties that had been washed out as well. Tex was one of those adoptees.
“Uh-oh, that’s a barbed wire fence!” Morrow shouts from behind the camera as Tex gallops after his big red yoga ball in the viral video. “That’s a rubber ball!”
In the next shot, Tex tries to flick the deflated mess upward with one horn, and appears to be disappointed when it falls flat on the ground. He tries a few more times to nudge the lifeless bag before running off toward his hay mattress.
Since the tragic accidental deflation, Amazon deliveries of new ones have poured in to the sanctuary, Morrow said. So at least the sad tale has a happy ending.
An updated photo from the sanctuary showed Tex living the Longhorn dream Wednesday in a pasture just after sun-up, keeping his trusty new red ball in sight at all times, it appears.
But his first love wasn’t his big red yoga ball. It was a big blue barrel that he would “fetch” for Morrow — again — by pushing it along with his horns, running for it and redirecting it in another direction.
“He is smart, very smart,” Morrow told McClatchy. “He’s like a dog. I spent lots of time with him as a calf — nursing his wounds — and through that interaction he and I bonded. Every evening, around 6 or so, he will walk up to the front pasture and visit me.”