How now, beef cow?

Yesterday Dr. Moo called to describe the sensation of sticking one's gloved hand into a sand-dollar-sized suppurating maggot-filled wound on the side of a cow. She used the word "interesting" (I think). I might go with "squirmy" but as I've never had my hand in anything maggot-filled other than a trashcan, I'm not the authority on it.

In other Dr. Moo news, she delivered a beef cow by c-section today. It was a tough delivery, b/c both mom and baby were bratty. Some hay got stuck in someone's abdomen. The calf was going to be sent to auction and for many reasons this would not have been a good experience for him.

In a true transference of familial relations, Dr. Moo decided to adopt the calf, asking permission from her fiancee first (as the calf will be living at his place) but neglecting to remind him that, a, she's leaving the state soon for a conference which means that, b, guess who's going to be in charge of twice-daily bottle feedings? Welcome to the family, future brother-in-law! Once you've been married a few years, you won't even get asked if it's OK to bring the critter home. You will come home and the critter will be there, possibly in your living room, hungry.

When Moo's fiancee asked if they could eat the cow, Moo said "Sure." So the plan is to bottle-raise him at home in one of those cow doghouse thingies for a couple of months, and then send him off to a friend's farm, where he'll fatten up for two years--and then it's t-bone time.

Though Dr. Moo has been a vegetarian since age 9 she recently professed she would eat meat if it came from an animal she raised. I told her I thought there was no way she'd be able to bottle-feed a calf for two months and then be OK with eating it, and recommended she name it "Dinner," just to be safe.

Then I decided "Beefy Chunks" would be an even better name.