My family grew by one with the birth of a calf. He arrived on early Sunday morning, born into a muddy, post-rain kraal, which gave him his name: Ngumdagga. He is “of the mud.”
Of course, I want to befriend this baby, but I am not friends with his mother Madiba or brother White Spot (I always forget the siSwati), so it’s a challenge.
Today I watched Lentjisi, the son of the other mother cow Pineapple (these cows are part of the dowry my bhuti is paying for his second wife), play fight with the baby and it was hysterical, watching them both bounce around on wobbly knees.