Thus far we’ve had five calves born here at the farm.  And boy howdy are they cute!  Full of verve and vigor, plenty of personality, more energy than we or their mothers can duplicate, and in general providing ample joy and laughs every day.

That’s Red Jr. less than two weeks old.  He was showing the paparazzi what he thought about the intrusion, but when I didn’t get the message, he turned up the volume.

I still didn’t get the message, but he didn’t seem to care anymore.

And if you’re wondering why he’s named Red Jr., well, here’s his mother, Red.

Hence the name.

We also have this little guy.

Nope, we haven’t named him yet.  I probably will even though I shouldn’t.

His mother is likewise nameless, though she certainly has personality.

Or at least curiosity.  Which is cool by me.

And this is Braue.

The name should be obvious (from German).

We’re not sure of Braue’s gender yet.  Not that it’s an emergency.  Besides, we’ll figure it out soon enough.

As for his mother, her name is Whiteface, and she’s the reason the pasture isn’t safe for strangers.

In fact, Whiteface makes the pasture unsafe for my uncle who lives here.  She got her bad personality from her mother who was also dangerous.

But that personality serves her well when she has a calf.  Trust me, you don’t want to mess with her or her calf if you value your life.  I can get close because I’m in the pasture many times each day and I’m the adopted Mr. Mom for one of the calves.  This has made me an honorary member of the herd.  Anyone else venturing into their territory is taking a big risk if Whiteface is around.

This is Sis.

She’s Bini’s twin sister.  Yes, a sister.  That photo was taken while she sampled a dead leaf, something she quickly discarded once she decided it wasn’t tasty.

That’s Sis feeding from her and Bini’s mother, Mom.  (Yes, we named her Mom because she’s a good mother.)  Unfortunately, having twins seemed to throw Mom’s body for a loop.  She wasn’t able to produce enough milk for even one calf (we’d already taken Bini away to raise him by hand).  Eventually we had to take Sis away from her and start feeding her by bottle.

The separation went well, albeit somewhat traumatic for both mother and calf.  But they’ve both adapted.  Sis has been held in the corral for almost two weeks while she acclimates to her new mother, my aunt.  Once she’s ready, we’ll move her back to the pasture with the herd and other calves.

Which brings us to the fifth calf, Bini.

That’s him sleeping with his head on my lap.  There’s no question from his perspective—or the rest of the herd for that matter—about who his Mr. Mom is.