Meeny, Miney, and Moe at the crossroads

As innocent as our scruffy-kneed small bovines may look, they have been pushing the limits recently and pushing the buttons of us living at 34 W. Eby. Not to cast aspersions on them--but they have been baa-ing at inappropiate times and much too frequently and loudly. We have provided them with fresh water, lots of molassus-tinged grain, ocassional excursions to the orchard pasture extension. Gratitude and shutting up never seems to be a result of this care. Therefore we had to take some decisive measures. No more trips to the orchard until they stop jumping the fence into the Glick's alfafa field. No more extra helpings of grain until they stop baa-ing after being fed. And, we've added, just yesterday, a little manger, custom-made at the back of their shed. Benuel and Junior Smoker, two Monterey boys, brought them a fresh bale of hay. So far Dorcas and Joel have claimed some success at getting them to transfer their voracious appetites from sweetened grain to hay--but so far it requires human time of standing there and soliciting the eating of hay. I hate to say this, but the thought of the Beiler cattle truck has popped into my head more than once. But we are taking all possible measures for forestall this eventuality. I am frustrated because I am by nature very forgiving of the friendly beasts of the field. But the happiness of people (family and neighbors) comes first, after all. So, for all of you who have petted Meeny, Miney, and Moe and who helped name them, I just wanted to update you. We will take no drastic actions without consulting with you. You did name them. Incidentally, their ceremonial names are: Casper, Melchior, and Balshazar.