‘It hit that gate and kept going’: Longtime Haldimand County bison farmer recounts buffalo charge that almost killed him

Mike Waters says he's lucky to be alive - and that's no bull.

Waters, 64, nearly died after one of the bison he raises on a farm west of Hagersville charged at him in July, sending him flying and landing him in hospital with more than a dozen broken bones.

He was trying to manoeuvre an eight-year-old bison - which weighed in at between 2,500 and 3,000 pounds - through a series of fenced chutes into a trailer bound for a butcher shop in Waterford.

The bull had other ideas.

It got kinda panicky," said Waters, describing how the shaggy freight train picked up speed - when agitated, bison can run 30 miles an hour - and charged at the equally panicked farmer, who ducked behind a gate that was not quite closed.

It hit that gate and kept going, and got me," Waters said. And that's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the trauma unit."

Waters was thrown into the air, his flight interrupted by a hydro pole some 15 feet away.

The impact blew the skin off" his ribs and crushed his left side, tearing a hole in his lung and leaving him with numerous broken ribs, a fractured spine and a shoulder broken in three places.

He was rushed to Hamilton General Hospital for what would be an extended stay in the trauma unit.

It was touch and go whether I was going to make it or not," said Waters, who also suffered a concussion and a stomach hernia that still plagues him eight months later.

I couldn't move. I was on my back for a month," he said, describing how his early days in recovery were spent hooked up to a feeding tube and catheter, with his wife, Michelle, giving him nightly sponge baths to take the pressure off the nurses."

They said I wouldn't walk for six months, but they had me up and going within a month and a week," Waters recalled.

The first time they got me up for physical therapy, I think they heard the scream around the whole hospital."

Walking, even while in excruciating pain, was the lesser of two evils," he said, since languishing in bed risked a possible fatal pneumonia infection.

He said surgery was ruled out due to that same risk of infection, meaning his body had to heal on its own, with help from painkillers and the phenomenal" health-care workers he got to know well over nearly two months at Hamilton General.

They encouraged me and watched over me 24-7, making sure everything was good and I was very comfortable," Waters said, marvelling at how attentive the nurses were despite having many patients to look after.

For girls that are run off their feet, you could never tell," he said.

While he was in good hands, Waters said there were moments when he nearly lost heart.

My cry was, God, take me home,' because the pain was unbearable," he said.

But this overwhelming peace said, nope, not done with you yet."

Call of the wild

Waters has heard God's voice before. He grew up on the streets of Hamilton, running with the Sherman gang and spending more time in street fights than study halls.

When I was 23 I became a Christian, and I just felt that at 30 years old, God was calling me to farm buffalo," he said.

So he and Michelle moved their two children from their Hamilton apartment to a farmhouse halfway to Brantford, where a veteran farmer showed Waters the ropes.

I got my first five buffalo and we just took off from there," said Waters, who now raises about 50 of the giant animals at his own operation, Springvale Bison Farm, with a baby boom expected within the month.

The grass-fed bison - which Waters sells for their meat or to other breeders and farmers - are typically docile in the open field.

The only problem is when you get them in a confined area. Then they go into a panic," he said. My wife's been thrown 15 feet. I've been gored once. It happens."

The bison may live on a farm, but they are still wild at heart, he added.

If these things ever got out, they'd kill you in a heartbeat," Waters said.

So these people who go to Yellowstone Park thinking they're going to pet these big animals, I'm telling you, you just don't do that."

The healing journey

Eight months after his violent brush with death, the longtime bison farmer is out of his wheelchair and back on the farm - still moving slowly, but with no plans to quit.

Not 100 per cent, but I'm going," he said.

His broken bones have healed, and he is finally off morphine after months of treatment that left him with reduced vision in one eye.

But he still gets choked up when remembering his ordeal.

When you have a near-death experience, you become very emotional. And it's still with me," he said.

I have 13 grandchildren, and you come to the conclusion that collecting stuff and making money is not really worth it, but memories are everything."

Every month he sends pizza to the sixth-floor trauma unit at Hamilton General, where a framed photo of the buffalo that caused Waters to become a patient there hangs on the wall.

Dr. Paul Engels, trauma medical director at Hamilton General, said hospital staff cheer when patients like Waters get back on their feet.

We've been working together with the patient to achieve a goal," Engels said. So to see the patient become successful, that is amazing, and we always love hearing those stories."

Hospital staff develop a long-term relationship" with trauma patients and their loved ones, Engels added. By talking the patient through the healing process at the outset, health-care workers can physically and mentally prepare them for the weeks and months to come.

It's helpful for them to understand what the next steps are, and provide some reassurance that even though the journey is long, it's something that they're going to be able to complete," Engels said.

Love for the bison'

While Waters was in hospital, his wife, Michelle, ran the farm.

She was a trooper," he said.

The couple briefly wondered if the accident was a sign to get out of the bison business.

Problem is, I have such a love for the bison and the farming," Waters said. So I thought, no, we're going to keep going with it."

The bull that put Waters in hospital was finally shipped to the slaughterhouse in March, winning an eight-month reprieve while the farm added more fencing and cages to its chute system.

Plus, Waters said, no one would fill in for him on the bison transport team while he was laid up.

Everybody was terrified. Nobody would go in there," he laughed.

There were some nights in the trauma unit that Waters had nightmares about the accident. But among his bison, he feels at ease.

When I got back on the property, I had no problems at all," he said.

J.P. Antonacci's reporting on Haldimand and Norfolk is funded by the Canadian government through its Local Journalism Initiative. jpantonacci@thespec.com