SAD (but tasty)! Baby calves make me understand why people become vegetarians. I'll never forget a bottle calf I helped raise, Betsy, when I was a teen-ager. Betsy and her brother, Bobby, were twin Holsteins that were practically family pets. We had a relationship with those cows; we played with them, talked to them, loved them, and we ATE BETSY! If I remember right, Betsy couldn't have babies, so her only purpose on a farm was to become dinner.
When Betsy met her fate, my family had been out of home-grown beef for a few months and had been eating store-bought. Store-bought meat is disgusting compared to the farm fresh stuff. Really gross. After being deprived of good meat for awhile, I remember browning the first pound of Betsyburger thinking there was no way I could eat my pet cow. But then the delicious aroma of home grown beef quickly got the best of me, and I gave in; I ate Betsy. It felt akin to cannibalism, but it was delicious. There. It's out in the open. I ate my pet cow, and I liked it. Poor Betsy.
I'm rethinking the whole bringing-one-of-the-baby-calves-home-for-a-pet idea. I'm not ready to explain to Colter why it's okay to play with his food at the farm but not at the table.