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".

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.

DAISY!

How do you mend a broken heart? Fill it with goats!! Daisy was brought to the farm to replace Crystal. Daisy is a 5 month old Saanen cross (we still don' t know who the daddy is!) from the farmer's friend's farm. Daisy is from the same herd that Crystal's daddy came from. The farmer is very happy to have new Saanen genetics on the place.

Daisy is very shy because she wasn't bottle fed. The farmer works with her every day by giving her lots of hugs and treats. Since being shy gets you hugs and treats, I think it won't be long before all the goats come down with a case of massive shyness!

Welcome Daisy!!

Gambling...

Crystal, my little doeling died last night. She was doing great and then she was dying. The farmer thinks it was enterotoxemia due to antibiotics and grain overdose. Crystal was going to be the next breeding doe on the farm. The farmer was so happy that she was so beautiful. She was the best of both worlds -- my sweet personality and Zeus' top quality genetics. She wasn't supposed to be. She was supposed to be an Oberhasli buck. That's what the farmer was betting on. When she came out in all her pure white glory, the farmer started betting on her being a top-notch breeding goat. She died, so I guess that's why they call making bets "gambling". We are all devastated.

Not Many Goats!

The farmer has been down-sizing the herd lately. All the Nubians have left. A lady came and bought Cookie, Blue, and baby Eco. Baby Terra was bought and taken to her new home at 7 days old. Baby Frack died last week due to coccidiosis complicated by dehydration.

For adult goats, there's just me, Gloria and Figaro. Gloria and I are giving milk. Figaro is giving fleece and he's the farm mascot. I will be bred this fall. Gloria is retiring from breeding. At 9 years old she deserves it. The farmer wants to end on a high note since Gloria did well freshening this year and looks good.

For kids, there's Crystal, Prim, Brun, and Bro. Ice, my Saanen buckling, was sent to the neighbor's so she could rehab him from his serious case of coccidiosis scours. He's doing better now. He'll be staying there to be a buddy to her house-sheep. Yep, a sheep that lives in her house... Crystal and Prim will be staying as breeding does at the farm when they get old enough. Brun is going to be the breeding buck this fall. Bro is getting wethered soon and will be a buddy for Brun for when he gets relegated to the buck pen. Both Bro and Brun will become cabrito and chevon after breeding season is over.

The line-up is three adult goats and 4 kids. The farmer is already dreaming about what she will be putting in the empty pen that the Nubians vacated. I heard the word "pigs" the other day. I hope that's not true!!

Kids!

 Here's the kids! The white ones are mine. The floppy-eared ones are Cookie's. The big brown and black bruts are Gloria's. The kids are all doing well and growing big!

MILK!

There are three of us goats being milked currently. Cookie is first in the line-up and produces about 1.5 quarts of milk. The milk machine barely gets warmed up by the time she is done.

I am second in line and I produce a respectable 1/2 gallon of milk per milking. My udder is quite lovely but the farmer curses it because my teats point forward thus forcing the milk machine tubing to be twisted around in order to get the sucker cups on my teats. I reward the farmer's hard work at situating the machine by stepping on the tubing or flicking the sucker cups off with my back foot in mid-milking.

Gloria is last but definitely not least. She produces about 1 gallon per milking with her huge udder. Most people have to comment on the size of her udder when they see it. The best comment was when the farmer's neighbor said that Gloria's udder was bigger than her 20 year old daughter's butt. I guess that is a big udder (or a small butt?).