HE NAMED THE CALF “BUTTONS”—BUT ONCE THE TRUCK PULLED UP, GRANDPA WOULDN’T LOOK HIM IN THE EYE
Buttons wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just a calf born early spring—scrawny, off-balance, always trying to nibble on the drawstrings of my hoodie. But my son Ezra fell for her fast. Every morning before school, he’d run out in that same “SUPER 08” shirt and help bottle-feed her. Every afternoon, he’d race off the…