Three guesses as to who named the goats...
Unless you are pretty hard hearted or warped (like me), never name your potential food. It makes it harder to kill and butcher for most people. I only named one cow in my childhood. My father heard about a cow giving birth and decided to go with the farmer out into the field to witness this miracle of life, something he hadn't seen since his childhood. She was a beautiful creature that had some complications when she calved, her 'inside woman-cow' parts had detached and come out along with the calf (breech). The farmer was upset and wanted to put her down immediately, my father in a fit of nostalgia decided that he would
buy the cow, have a vet 'put things right', and worst case scenario we'd have a milk cow. So, my father buys the cow, borrows a flatbed trailer and rushes the cow to a vet for an emergency intervention. Along the way, he picks up my mother, sister, an older brother and myself so that we can see this humanitarian effort and learn a valuable life lesson. The vet had closed but this didn't deter my father, he called the man at home and pleaded his case and with assorted promises convinced this man to help. What I remember most, standing around the flatbed trailer, staring into those dark beseeching eyes that asked the question 'can you help me, please?', was asking my mother if I could name her. My mother told me that it wouldn't be wise to name her until we knew if she would live or not. I asked my mother if I could at least pet her, reluctantly she allowed me to. I walked up to her trembling form and kneeled down next to her head and began to stroke her calmingly, 'Don't worry Hamburger, everything will be okay. I'm sure you'll be great!' My mother pulled me down off the trailer and whipped my ... on the spot!
Check it out, just do a google on "The Colony".
