First off, thanks for all the great suggestions, we loved them! One of the few unfortunate things about living with children is that they have enthusiastically horrible taste in names. When I awoke on Monday, it looked like the poor calf was going to be called K.B. (for King Buster). Egads! Thanks to all the great ideas, we at least managed to get that off the table. The final result of all the deliberations was to stick two of the suggested names in a hat (Licorice and Slate) along with King, and Buster. The last name drawn would be THE NAME. It wasn’t my first choice, but perhaps it ended up what it should be. My husband was out walking the dog when the calf was born, so it was Boy one and I to get the new Mom and calf to the barn (fifty feet = half an hour).
“I want to name him Buster,” said Boy one within minutes. “I look at him and I just want to call him Buster.”
Boy one has been doing the nightly chores for all the animals for more than a year now. It is Boy one who feeds and waters Anabelle and takes the extra minutes to say hello. He patiently hoped through the hours of deliberations and the eventual draw of names. There was one very satisfied young farmer in our house last night when it was at last decided that his was the name given the calf.
So Buster it is and our well deserving boy is very happy.