I, Lucy the goat, do not like goats with horns! I know that almost all goats are born with horns, but that doesn't mean that all goats should have horns. I was born with horns but the farmer had mine removed when I was 2 weeks old. Now I have a lovely head with no ugly horns. I am quite beautiful being a hornless goat, in my opinion. I had some goat friends at the farm that where born without horns at all! The farmer was quite pleased with these naturally lovely goats, as was I. They were quite impressive being polled from birth. I wish it could be that way for all goats. It would save goat farmers around the world a lot of trouble and it would save goats around the world a lot of eye-sores from looking at ugly horned goats all day.
Where does my lack of love of horned goats come from? Well, being Lucy, the daughter of Gloria the herd queen, means that I have to stay on top of my game to stay on top of my herd. I am second in command (Pepper Ann likes to think she is second, but we all know better). It's a hard position to be in. As second in command, I have to keep my post and keep all new comers in line. Should a new comer arrive at the farm with a full head of horns, my post will be in jeopardy. I cannot stand up against a horned goat. I just don't have the resolve to tolerate all that hard head-bashing that will go on. I, Lucy, might lose my post. I might be pushed lower than Pepper! I might be relegated to the bottom of the herd, lower than even Pepper's excruiable daughter, Cookie! This would be very bad indeed. Thus my hatred of horns is borne on a sturdy foundation of status preservation.
I also do not like horns due to what the farmer has told me about horns. Dairy goat horns grow up and out, and are very pointy. I have seen this myself on a few goats. The horns are like swords sticking out of a goat's head, waiting to impale passers-by. This is very bad news, not only for other goats, but for the farmer. She has to work around those horns and be very careful not to get poked or stabbed. Now, the farmer has a farmer-in-training (FOT) in the form of her new daughter Emily. Could you imagine what would happen if dear Emily were to be stabbed by a goat horn? (I can imagine the farmer would be having filet of goat for dinner that night). Thus my hatred of horns also comes from a love for the farmer and FOT.
Another reason that horns are ridiculous is that my mom, Gloria, is always complaining that she is cold. Gloria has one horn. It's a short little nub that was the result of a botch disbudding by her original owner. This little nub sticks up out of her head, making her a unigoat. This little nub catches the wind and snow and transmits that cold right straight through her thick head into her body. She is freezing all the time due to this little heat sink stuck on top of her head. Goats horns help regulate their temperatures. They are full of blood vessels and nerve endings. This is perfectly fine for goats confined to the scorching southwest, or the heated plains of Africa, but it is totally ridiculous for any goat confined to the frigid north! Temperatures drop routinely to well below zero around here. I can't imagine having two large heat loss masses stuck to my head in the dead of winter. Brrr!!! Thus my hatred of horns is part from my love of staying a non goat-sicle.
So, there is my edict on stupid goat horns. I find any goat with a full set of horns to be a perfect waste of a good goat. Some farmers will argue that horns are "the way God intented goats to be". Well to that I say, a cat is born able to breed and reproduce "the way God intended it to be", does this mean that they should never be neutered/spayed and allowed to breed freely thus populating the world with many unwanted and unloved cats in order to leave them "as God intended"? I think not... Oy!