Bulls with No Name.
Stupid Update: Just like every other animal that lived it's life on our farm, she (turns out she wasn't a he) was crazy hard to kill. I hope some of this animal immortality rubs off on me. She did her turn last night as our bait, but no coyotes showed up. Two of the numerous possibilities are 1) they are smarters than we or 2) there may be no pack living where we put Stupid to lure them out. My mom insists that she can hear them howling back there but from now on my hunting will take place where I have had literally seen them.
Bloated and still unnamed Update: The calf who should have died a couple days ago of the unknown ailment recovered, both unexpectedly and unexplainably. She was intensely bitter about the whole ordeal and took a couple of running head-butts at me and the vet's assistant, be she seems to have gotten over that too.
This is one of the two bulls we employ. They work for two weeks and then lounge around for the other 50. They are put with the breeding herd to do just that sometime in July. Cows gestate same as people, nine months. After they've had their way with everyone there is no point of separating them back out, it's easier to feed them with the others. Except they can't be around from February to July because they'll do their business too soon and we'll have snowy calves. My mom and my aunt and my uncle had been warning me all winter that it was a bad bad day, the bull separating day. That getting the herd into the barn and running everyone through cow jail was hell.
But I saw them both down by the barn last week and I shut them in. And then it took Rusty and I about 30 minutes to get them in the trailer. Everyone is very relieved. Or at least, so they tell me.
The bulls are now in the bull pen for the spring. There is one big one, pictured, and a slightly smaller and way less imposing one. Compared to the Holstein bulls we grew up with, these two are kittens. I was charged repeatedly by every single bull we ever had growing up. They hated me. These you could almost pet.
But they need names.
my dad called them - Slick Willie and Plodder
my first idea was - Fat Man and Little Boy
my second idea was - Franz and Ferdinand
rusty suggested - Curly and Little Moe
Participation is needed. Name my bulls. You can also do your own write ins of course.
Bloated and still unnamed Update: The calf who should have died a couple days ago of the unknown ailment recovered, both unexpectedly and unexplainably. She was intensely bitter about the whole ordeal and took a couple of running head-butts at me and the vet's assistant, be she seems to have gotten over that too.
This is one of the two bulls we employ. They work for two weeks and then lounge around for the other 50. They are put with the breeding herd to do just that sometime in July. Cows gestate same as people, nine months. After they've had their way with everyone there is no point of separating them back out, it's easier to feed them with the others. Except they can't be around from February to July because they'll do their business too soon and we'll have snowy calves. My mom and my aunt and my uncle had been warning me all winter that it was a bad bad day, the bull separating day. That getting the herd into the barn and running everyone through cow jail was hell.But I saw them both down by the barn last week and I shut them in. And then it took Rusty and I about 30 minutes to get them in the trailer. Everyone is very relieved. Or at least, so they tell me.
The bulls are now in the bull pen for the spring. There is one big one, pictured, and a slightly smaller and way less imposing one. Compared to the Holstein bulls we grew up with, these two are kittens. I was charged repeatedly by every single bull we ever had growing up. They hated me. These you could almost pet.
But they need names.
my dad called them - Slick Willie and Plodder
my first idea was - Fat Man and Little Boy
my second idea was - Franz and Ferdinand
rusty suggested - Curly and Little Moe
Participation is needed. Name my bulls. You can also do your own write ins of course.
posted by Lord of the Barnyard at 6:41 PM
12 Comments:
How about
Bull and Harry Stone
or
Perigee and Apogee!
what about
Cornfed and The Bombardier
I also like
your father's names.
I'd say you can't do better than Franz and Ferdinand, especially if you've got one bull who is a little light in the loafers, if you know what I'm saying.
What about Humdinger and Satisfier or Mr. Dependable?
I vote for your father's names..
Wooly and Bully.
Drew, I agree that Franz and Ferdinand would be hard to beat, but, you could try these also:
- Dr. Stanley Proctor and his friend Uncle Jessie.
- Ronald McDonald and Carl Jr.
- T-bone and Filet
- The reverend Jessie Jackson and Bruce
- Commie and Pinkie
Hope those help Drew. Oh yeah, sorry about #2 and 3, it's amlost lunch.
John the Baptist/bull and Socrates (pronounced "So - crates")
I can't come up with a good companion name but i think at least one of them should be "Tony Danza"
-you know! from Night Court.
Schwetty and Balls
Harris and Buster
Tonto and Chief Hug Em
Thanks for the help. I'm sure no one is surprised I ended up going with the one I came up with. I love me.
And it was hard not keeping my Dad's names. Not only because they were good, but because I nammed my aunt's cat when she asked me to (Lorax) but she pretented she couldn't remember that and changed it to Riley. Pshaw. In my defense, I decided to name them without knowing that he had already nammed them.
i do not know how the word name is made past tense. nammed? rilly?
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