What's in a Name?

(continued from here)

When would he ever learn? Bessie may not be the most assertive cow, but she certainly wasn’t backing down this time. A name is one of the most important things a mama can give her calf, and this little bull was going to get the best one for him. So what if Fred didn’t like her choices? He’d made it pretty clear what he thought of her list. Very, very clear.

She understood what the little one had to face in life – the ridicule from the other animals, torture from the Giants, blinding flashes from the redheaded Giant’s device (possibly causing blindness in one so young), dust accumulation, smoke inhalation, the list was endless. Facing that kind of life with a name like Taurus was ridiculous. None of the others in the kitchen would have anything to do with her calf if she saddled him with that! Why, just look at the way they treated poor Phoenix, the goose creamer’s son down the way. Of course, what a silly goose was thinking, naming one of its children after such a noble bird … that was neither here nor there. Her son was going to have a normal name, not one which set him above the others and called ridicule on him.

Priscilla understood, even if her husband did not. Prissy had common sense, she did. She loved the name Wallace nearly as much as Bessie. Wallace had character. It was stable. Comfortable. Strong. No one would pick on a Wallace. Her little bull even looked like a Wallace. Well, at least right now he looked like a Wally. And that would just have to do.

Would Fred hear her out? Noooo. She’d get as far as, “Minotaur is a noble, strong name, I agree, but the other creatures will think he’s too proud. They’ll make fun of him.” He’d shut her down every time. His moo would grow loud and agitated. She learned that she couldn’t have these conversations while the Giants were awake. Fred was just too darn loud. Maybe she’d just have to name the calf and get it over with.

(to be continued)