Rabbotai,
The Gemora, (actually the Torah itself), indicates that it's not normal for a shor to gore another animal or person so it takes 3 warnings to go from tam to muad.
The animal that we call a bull today is quite a large and dangerous creature. It's not all that uncommon for it to gore. Motion sometimes enrages it. Witness the bull fights in Spain and Mexico. In fact, non-Jewish farmers regularly are mesares (castrate) it when it's young to make it less dangerous. It then becomes an ox or a steer depending on its age at the date of this procedure.
This being the case, why does the Torah consider it safe and give a person three chances until it becomes a muad? A lion, snake, scorpion etc. don't have this chazaka for good reason.
The only thing that I can think of is that the term shor in the Torah didn't refer to such an animal as our bulls. This is just speculation. The shor could have been an auroch, a large extinct creature considered the ancestor of today's cows and bulls. There are ancient drawings of this animal on cave walls in Spain and France. The last one is said to have died in Poland in the 1600s. It could also have been a water buffallo, (not an American bison that's only native to N. America), type of creature found in Asia. The oxen that come from the Scottish Highlands & their descendants that pull wagons and plow fields also seem to be much more docile than our bulls.
Comments? Ideas?
b'kavod,
Samuel A. Kosofsky
Aurochs were much MORE dangerous than modern bulls. They were selectively bred for smaller, more docile temperaments until modern cattle were produced.
Sorry, but I think that shor is a regular bull.
Nosson Slifkin
zoorabbi@zootorah.com
Allow me to add my own comment to that of our local zoology expert.
Alonei ha'Bashan is a Moshav in the Golan that borders on a nature preserve. The Moshav separates the female, milk-producing cows from the bulls, sending the bulls to roam on the preserve freely (with the wild boars and coyotes etc.). When I first followed their directions to the preserve, planning to stroll through it on my own, I was caught off guard upon noticing a bull with large, sharp horns gazing at me from a few feet away, from atop the hillock across from the entrance gate. Needless to say, I returned on my heels, passing on the experience.
When I asked the Moshavnikim how one is supposed to stroll safely in the preserve, they explained that I should not be impressed by their horns. They are docile creatures; there have [almost?] never been incidents with them. I took their word, and after walking a kilometer through the preserve, passing bulls every ten feet or so, I saw what they meant. The bulls (and certainly the other, non-domestic, animals) generally get out of the way if they see anyone coming, and don't show any pretenses of attacking (although I wouldn't go and kick them!).
Try it!
-Mordecai Kornfeld