Buffalo: (n) a heavily built wild ox with backswept horns
I saw one.
I was driving across the country many years ago in my beat-up, brown Dodge van, with two other folks. 
We were crossing the plains–I think South Dakota–and there in the distance was a buffalo.
Even though I’ve never been close to one, I’ve seem them in movies enough that I was pretty sure I was staring at the beast. We were on a back country road, so we decided to stop and pull out our old-fashioned cameras, which were not digital, climb out and take some pictures of the creature.
He–or she–was about a hundred yards away.
All at once, this hairy force of nature noticed us and started ambling in our direction. We thought it was cool.
But as it got closer and closer, it got bigger and bigger and fiercer and fiercer and faster and faster. It was less than thirty yards from us when we deicded we’d better jump back into the van, figuring we would be safe.
The buffalo actually came all the way to our position. Feeling well encased, we continued taking pictures through the window glass. The buffalo apparently became offended because it came over, took its big, ugly head and bumped the passenger door.
It was loud.
The lady sitting in that chair was absolutely terrified.
I started the van and took off, with the buffalo trying to keep up for about a hundred feet.
When we were fully away from the scene, we pulled over and got out to assess the damage.
There was a huge dent in the door, which we could never afford to fix.
So from that point on, whenever we came out to get into the van, we were reminded of our friend from the Dakotas.
Like so many things in life, it’s much nicer to see them on TV.
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