Rick knew best. As I stated earlier, he would not let me name the calf. He had his doubts. The downhill slide began when the mother cow's udders started drying up - one per day. Each day we had less real milk and had to use the fake stuff. By Friday the mother was dried up. The calf would suck from the bottle, but she would not stand up without Rick holding her up. I kept saying that we just needed to do physical therapy on her. The story ended Saturday morning, one week after finding her in the cedar tree; a coyote got her during the night. So the story ends without a "happily ever after."