I name things. My cars, my spinning wheels, my Vita-Mix. To have the boys here for two weeks with no names is unprecedented. But these things take time. You can't just name a sentient being something random and without meaning. The Peanut-butter Boys needed their own identities.
The girls were originally named "Flopsy" and "Mopsy" They were shy and timid. We wanted them to feel self-assured, so they got strong, independent women names, Eleanor (Roosevelt) and Amelia (Earhart.) We overshot a bit, especially with Amelia, who spent a good part of last year marking my forearm with bruises shaped like her horns. Feeding her with the bowl in my lap to get her to accept me touching her, and to not whack me with her head if I didn’t feed her fast enough seemed to help. (this probably needs to be a post on its own)
My friend Heather popped up with the Best. Last Name. Ever. Zuckerpoopsen. It’s roughly German for “Sugar Butt.” It’s going to be the last name for all the goats, kind of like a unity candle at a mixed-family wedding. We needed names that evoked gentle and sweet energy for our little guys. Full grown males can weigh 150-175 pounds, with a horn width of up to 2 feet. Sweet and gentle is imperative. The first two names on the list were Don White and Bob Riser - the most kind, calm and gentle men I know. One is my daddy, the other is a friend here in town. Those names got nixed because I figured at some point I’d be cussing at one of them and saying “Damnit Bob Riser, don’t eat that!!” and then feel like crap for doing it. Next came the “peace” names - Jimmy (Carter) and Desmond (Tutu) and poet/writers like Henry (David Thoreau) and Ralph (Waldo Emerson,) the nerdy accountant names like Milo & Wendell. About that time we noticed that one of the boys could do the ‘airplane ears’ thing that some goats we know can do. It’s a trait that a one-horned bitchy old girl named Copper passes on and it turns out Copper is his grandma. In came the aviation names, obvious ones like Orville and Wilbur and some obscure ones like Immelmann and Rickenbacker. I didn't know those names. I called my friend Nickie, who is a pilot and generally knows, well, EVERYTHING. I call her "Nickipedia." Anyway, those names seemed kind of 'big' for our little guys. Back to the drawing board.
Eventually I turned to the baby name websites and out popped Tucker. It means “beloved.” DING DING DING! He certainly is beloved. It took a week or so to get Charlie named. Round and round we went. We started watching West Wing again, and were reminded of how much we loved the character Charlie, the president’s body man. He’s young, smart, and has the most sincere brown eyes ever. He starts out shy, but comes out of his shell and warms up to be a very endearing person as he grows into himself. I know my name, Cari, means “loved,” and is sometimes shown as the feminine of Charles, so that works, too. Now we have names for our sweet boys.
I really like these names, and the boys are starting to respond to them as well.
Stay tuned for the second part of this series…. How we named Junebug Farms!