I have told this story before, and sorry if it sounds too crazy to believe, but it happened.
It was back in my childhood, around 30 years ago. I lived in a small village where there were some farmers.
An ox had escaped from one of the farms, and gone on a crazy race through the town.
Now, my great-grandmother's house was located at the end of a cul-de-sac. Her house /formed/ the end of the cul-de-sac, facing the road directly.
The crazed ox stormed into the cul-de-sac, saw its mirrored image in my great-grandmother's window and must have thought: "Hey!! A friend!! Yayyyyyy!!" (Or maybe he thought: "an enemy! Attack!" Or hey, maybe he just thought: "Leeeeeeerooooooy Jennnnkinnns!!!" Who can tell?)
And he jumped, and BLASTED right through the window. Blood, wood splinters and shards of glass scattered everywhere, the huge beast landing somewhere in the middle of chairs and table - miraculously not breaking any bones.
Thank goodness my great-grandmother was in the back room of the (very small) house.
She heard a loud crash and a surreal MOOOOOOOOOO...
and came out of the back room to see probably the biggest ravage she had seen since WWII.
The ox raised his head, which he had likely smacked into the side of the table while coming to a skidding halt on his knees, gave her a sort of "dazed and confused" look, and stumbled outside like a drunk, wiping his bloody sides on the wallpaper and on the door in the process.
By then, a little crowd had gathered in the cul-de-sac, looking perplexed. The farmer came running on, thankfully the people there in the village like my great-grandmother and the farmer were all very calm and level-headed people and the farmer immediately promised to reimburse her for all the damage (he did). The ox was by now very "calm", or rather, still too befuddled to give any sort of resistance while he was being lead home. Bleeding from quite a few superficial wounds but all in all nothing too bad.
My grandmother, mother and I, who all lived together "in a little crooked house" a street further, had by now also heard the news - I don't remember who it was but someone came running to our door saying great-grandma needed help. Of course we went there immediately.
Great-grandma was also still a little dazzled, but otherwise fine. After all, she had witnessed both World Wars (and don't forget we live in Belgium!) so there wasn't much that fazed her.
But the mess, oh my goodness, the mess! Blood, glass, ox dung, all over the place. The wallpaper, the furniture, the floor, the tablecloths...
Other neighbours arrived and very soon a makeshift wooden board was made to cover the hole of the window. The tablecloth was thrown out, some furniture was dragged outside to be cleaned, buckets of soap water were filled to scrub the place.
It was one of those "small village stories that lives on".
Unbelievable? Yes. If it had been in a movie, we would have said "what over the top nonsense!"