It took us awhile to come up with names for our calves. I mentioned our new nameless calves to the postmistress in town (yes, we have a post office all our own out here; though I think I am the only person who uses it). She gave me a great piece of advice, "Whatever you do, don't let the children name the calves."
Evidently, she had once made this mistake herself. "Our kids were so excited we were getting a moo-cow. As soon as our diary cow arrived, they named it Moo. At first we thought it was a cute name, but that cow got out every chance it could. I spent a lot of time wandering through town calling, 'Moo! Moo!'"
We named ours Rudy, Louie and Waldo (so that St. George can ask us repeatedly, "Where's Waldo?").
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