Get Along Little Dogie
Meet "Slosher." How'd he get his name? Well, when Monty found him (his mother had died) and brought him home, we quickly prepared half a bottle of calf milk replacer--not too much, because we didn't want to make him sick. After catching him and cornering him, Monty straddled him and forced his mouth open. At first he was scared, kicking and bawling at the top of his little calf lungs, but hunger won out, and it didn't take long before he'd drained the bottle.After that first feeding he ran around and around the corral pen in circles, the milk sloshing in his stomach. So, Jenna and I dubbed him "Slosher."
He settled into his new feeding routine easily, eagerly anticipating each and every meal by running to the fence and poking his long wet tongue through the wire mesh anytime he heard someone come near. And whenever you'd try to pet him, he'd try to curl that tongue around your finger.
A couple of months later we started supplementing his bottled meals with hay and cattle ration, and before long he no longer came running to meet us at the fence every time he heard us enter the corral. He was growing up, and pretty soon he wouldn't need us anymore--he'd be able to get along on his own.
I've often wondered why we insist on naming our dogies (and the calves of our milk cow), because it sure makes it harder when it comes time to sell them.
Just a little friendly FYI here--the word dogie should be pronounced with a long o, not a short one. ;)
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