This little calf was born last fall. Smedley came up with a cute name for the calf on the spot, but just like every cute name Smedley comes up with, I forget it in minutes and end up renaming the animal several times. I'll call this one Bacon.

Yes, I'm well aware this is a BEEF animal, not a PORK animal, but you still remember that name, don't you? More importantly, I still remember it. Let's move on.

Brand-new Bacon was asleep against the side of the barn on this day last fall, lying in the same place for at least three hours. Cows often stash their calves in high grass or in low spots -- any place where they are somewhat hidden and protected -- and then the cows are free to roam, graze, and watch Oprah. Add in the fact that mother cows have no diapers to change, not do they have to carry the little buggers (who can weigh as much as 100 pounds), and bovine motherhood sounds rather pleasant. (Until you remember that in the end they are Mama Hamburgers, that is.)

So I tried to sneak up on the calf to get a photo. Bacon's nap spot was just on the other side of our back yard fence, which is less a yard fence to keep people out than it is a pasture fence to keep animals in. Bacon woke up with a bawl and stood up on shaky legs -- aren't they cute?

That's when I spied Mama Hamburger, quite a ways away.

She was feigning nonchalance, but she was all over me like a duck on a junebug as soon as that calf stood up. (I was still outside the fence and a safe distance from Baby Bacon, because I know better than to get between a cow and her calf.) Here's Mama Hamburger's good side, as she chews and considers the Middle East situation:

Little Bacon tottered off to meet Mama Hamburger and to nurse while Mama finished grazing and watching Oprah.* The end.

*This ending is an obvious fabrication. Cows NEVER finish grazing.