My mom gave the farmer a scare last night. Everything was going normally
for doing chores. The farmer put Gloria (my mom) on the milk stand and
put the milk machine on. She was acting
normal and eating her grain. Halfway through milking, Gloria peed on
the milk stand. The farmer went to scold her for making a mess and saw
that she has large gobs of slimy goo coming out of her mouth and nose.
Frothy bloat! The farmer whipped Gloria off of
the milk stand and started walking her to help move some of the frothy
gas out of her stomach. She walked and walked up and down the farm to
keep Gloria moving. Gloria spit out gobs of goo and snot. The farmer had
to stop every so often to wipe the slime from
Gloria's nose so she could breath. The farmer got her hubby to walk the
goat while she went to the house and got 1 cup of peanut oil and some
baking soda. She gave this to Gloria to try to break the surface tension
of the froth so it would stop building up
in the rumen. Gloria kept burping and spitting up slime for a while.
She started to puff up and get very large. The farmer was worried that
she wouldn't be able to stop the gas from expanding and it would hurt
Gloria. After a lot of walking and massaging Gloria
stopped spitting up goo and her stomach went back to normal size. She
is fine today and is eating normally. Hooray for the farmer who saved
the day!
Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Horse Trading
The farmer's friend went to look at a horse who her buddy traded 5 hens
for. The buddy said the horse was only 15 years old or so but the
farmer's friend said they must have been counting
in dog years. And since it didn't have teeth anymore, nobody could tell
how old it is anyways. The friend looked at the horse and said it was
only about 300 lbs underweight and needed a hoof trimming and should get
a special diet on account of the lack of teeth. The friend wanted to
take the
horse because her buddy didn't have any money to feed the horse or
really a place to put it. The buddy said she consider selling the horse
for $200. I guess those were some specialty hens she traded it for in
the first place. The farmer's friend didn't take the horse. Then the
friend's friend needed
a horse for her gelding who was mean and wanted to knock down her barn
every time he came near a mare, even though he was gelded and he
probably wouldn't have known what to do once he got near the mare. So
she had him out in a pasture all by himself and he needed a friend. This
lady went to get the horse from the buddy and traded her three roosters
for it. I think she got the better deal because the buddy spent five
hens on him and this lady only had to spent three crummy roosters for
him. I guess that would be what you call "horse trading" or maybe "horse
for hens and then roosters for horse trading".
Friday, July 13, 2012
The Most Injust of Injustices!
I have been hurt in so many ways.... First, the farmer brings a new goat home without consulting me and showers that new goat with apple treats and hugs to make her "tame". I don't see what the big deal about being "tame" is because I am the tamest goat in the world and it doesn't get me apple treats or hugs. I don't know why anyone would want to become tame if they get apple treats and hugs for not being tame. I think I shall become untamed, whatever that entails.
Second, the farmer took Figaro, Prim, and Daisy to Goat Night at the local feed store. Those three got to ride in the car, visit with all sorts of new friends, and get apple treats all evening long. I had to stay home and eat hay. Figaro, Prim or Daisy do not have their own blog, they don't make delicious milk, the don't have shiny copper red fur and they aren't ME! The farmer said I couldn't come because I was too big to fit in the Jeep with the other goats. Well, that's not my fault. It's the farmer's fault because she should drive a nice goat van so we can all go places with her. The only place I ever go anymore in the Jeep is to speed date in someone's driveway in the fall. That's sure is an interesting time, but I would rather go to Goat Night and get apple treats.
If you feel that I am valid in my cries of injustice, please support me! You can support my fight against injustices by sending large boxes of apple treats addressed to Lucy. Be sure not to put anything generic on the box like "The goats" because the farmer isn't very bright and likes me to share my treats (or give away all my treats when I am not looking) so she might get the wrong idea if the boxes aren't sent directly to me.
Second, the farmer took Figaro, Prim, and Daisy to Goat Night at the local feed store. Those three got to ride in the car, visit with all sorts of new friends, and get apple treats all evening long. I had to stay home and eat hay. Figaro, Prim or Daisy do not have their own blog, they don't make delicious milk, the don't have shiny copper red fur and they aren't ME! The farmer said I couldn't come because I was too big to fit in the Jeep with the other goats. Well, that's not my fault. It's the farmer's fault because she should drive a nice goat van so we can all go places with her. The only place I ever go anymore in the Jeep is to speed date in someone's driveway in the fall. That's sure is an interesting time, but I would rather go to Goat Night and get apple treats.
If you feel that I am valid in my cries of injustice, please support me! You can support my fight against injustices by sending large boxes of apple treats addressed to Lucy. Be sure not to put anything generic on the box like "The goats" because the farmer isn't very bright and likes me to share my treats (or give away all my treats when I am not looking) so she might get the wrong idea if the boxes aren't sent directly to me.
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