Happy Halloween!

Okay so I am a little late on the whole "Halloween" thing, but heck, I am a goat - I don't exactly get to go trick-or-treating or anything (although some treats would be nice once in a while -- hint, hint farmer!). One thing good about this Halloween was that the farmer has really started to make her new assistant pay off. Here is a picture of Assistant Farmer, Emily, in her Halloween costume:


Can you guess what she is? That's right - She's a goat! I thought Emily being a goat for Halloween was a great way to pay homage to us wonderful goats of the world. It also is a great way to spread the message about goats being just as cute to dress up like as a sheep or lamb (patooey!) would be. The only criticism I have about this costume is that judging by the roman nose and the airplane ears makes me think that she must be dressed up as some sort of Alpine-Nubian (patooey!) cross. Nubians (patooey!) aren't exactly the best representatives of the species, so I am a little perturbed that such a nice costume is somewhat wasted on that branch of the goat family tree. Oh well, at least she doesn't have horns!

On another note: Cookie is having a hard time with this breeding season. This being her first time coming into heat, she is having a very difficult time deciding what is going on. Take yesterday for instance; yesterday she sat all day screaming throughout the barnyard. All we heard all day was, "Let me see my boyfrieeeennnnddd! I love my boooyyyffrrieeennnddd! I llllooooovvveee hhhhiiimmmm!". And soon on it went all day long. When the farmer came to do chores, she noticed the extra vocalizations from Cookie and did as Cookie was wanting. The farmer put Cookie in with her boyfriend. Well, once Cookie was in with the buck, she decided that this was not what she wanted. So all we heard for 30 minutes was, "GET ME OUT OF HERE! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE MY BOYFRIEND! HE SMELLS AND IS UGLY!!". The farmer got tired of this yelling so she took Cookie away from the buck and put her back in the barn with us girls. Cookie decided that this was not want she wanted either so she immediately started to protest and cry, "BUT I LOOOOVVVEE HIIIMMM! HE'S MY SOUL MATE! YOU CAN'T KEEP US APART!!!!!". And on and on it went, all night long. Sheesh.... Teenagers......

I won an award!

Many special thanks to Lilyian and Tayet Silverspoon over at "In a Goats Shoes" blog at www.lucky13goatranch.blogspot.com. They gave me my first "One Lovely Blog" award. Sweet! I will pass it on!

HORNS!

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!

The Escape: Part Deux!

When we were put out to the pasture yesterday morning, I could hear the familiar click of the electric fence charger in the distance. We knew the fence was on. We knew we would get shocked if we touched the fence. We knew we would get no extra grain treats that night if we got out of the pasture. But we also knew there was a great delicious forest on the other side of that fence.

Pepper was the first to make a move. She eyed the fence up and down and then picked a spot to test it. She put her head down, aligned her shoulders, and gave a mighty shove to the hot fence. She did it fast, faster than I thought a Nubian could move. So fast in fact that the fence didn't get time to shock her. Once the fence was leaning, we could all easily step over it. Pepper went first, I followed, Cookie followed me. Gloria hesitated but didn't want to be left out of the feast like yesterday. She daintily stepped over the hot fence trying hard not to let her dangling teats brush against it (nothing is worse than a hot shock to the udder!). Just a little hop, skip, and a jump and Gloria was free from the pasture along with the rest of us.

We started first on the raspberry bushes and maple trees that we hadn't gotten to yesterday. Then we moved back to the spruce trees by the chicken barn. Gloria taste tested all the flowers in the two barn flower planters. Cookie and I moved along the front of the barn to the bushes next to the dog pen. We found gooseberries, maples, and a spruce to eat.

By afternoon, it had started to rain. We decided to move the party indoors to the barn. There wasn't much to eat in the barn since all the grain was in bins. Pepper tested the bag of oyster shell for the chickens and found it too much like sand to be tasty.

The farmer came home and noticed there were no goats in sight in the pasture. She asked her husband if he had put the goats in the barn. He said that he hadn't. The farmer came out to the barn to find us all drunk in massive food comas from the day's pillaging. She put us in our pens with no dinner for the night. Oh well, we really didn't want any dinner after that smorgasbord we had today!

Perhaps tomorrow the farmer will let us out to the pasture again?

The Great Escape!

Pepper was the first to notice it when we were let out to the pasture in the morning.
She said, "I think the fence is off".
I said, "No, it's never off. You test it".
"I don't like getting shocked! I don't want to test it", Pepper replied. "Let's get Cookie to test it".
"How will we get her to test it? She's even more of a scaredy-goat than you", I snorted.
"Let's trick her into testing it" Pepper said.
"Good idea", I said. "Hey Cookie! Come over here for a minute."
Cookie came running over to the fence.
"Cookie, look at this bush on the other side of the fence". When she turned to look, Pepper gave her a headbutt and pushed her into the fence. Cookie fell over the fence, knocking it down. Pepper walked over Cookie and into the great forest of delicious leaves. I followed Pepper. Cookie followed me.
"You'll get in trouble!" Gloria called after us. She stayed inside the pasture on her thinking stump and mulled over the situation.

When the farmer came home she saw that the fence was knocked down and the goats were wandering around the yard. She quickly grabbed Pepper, Cookie, and I and put us in the barn in our pens. She then went and let Gloria out of the pasture and put her in her stall.
"Good girl, Gloria" the farmer said as she gave Gloria a scratch and an extra grain treat.
"You are all bad girls" the farmer said to the rest of us. We didn't get any extra grain treats that night, but it was okay because I know I was not in the mood for any extra food after the buffet I had earlier in the day. Oy!

Dawn of the Does

We are watching you!










I am watching you!!

Where did I go?

"Where did I go?", you might be asking if you are a fan of this blog. I didn't go anywhere. Nope, nowhere. I haven't been able to post because the farmer has been busy training her new farm helper - "Baby Emily". I am not too impressed with her progress in training. By three months old, my babies are already learning to jump off of high places, climb the gate for grain treats, and they are ready to be weaned from milk. So far in three months, Baby Emily has learned only not to scream so much while the farmer is busy milking me. Sheesh! That's not much of an accomplishment if you ask me! I often wonder what the farmer has been training her to do, if anything at all. She can't even hand out one grain treat yet. Human babies are so unrefined.

So, what's going on with me, you ask? I am well. The summer has been good to me. I had twin boys this year, if you remember. Both of them grew up to be strong and happy by three months old (unlike some other baby we have around here!). They went off to their new home to entertain a young girl with cancer. I hope they are behaving themselves and are keeping the girl happy.

Finally we have a real summer of sun and heat and not so much rain. The last couple of summers have been rainy. Us goats do not like the rain. It's wet and cold and very un-fun. Sometimes when it rains the farmer lets us stay in the barn for the day. That is boring but at least we get some hay for breakfast and we don't get wet. Sometimes, though, we aren't so lucky and the farmer makes us stay outside in the rain huddled under the pine tree. Yuck! Well, I digress.... Summer has been good this year. I am fat and shiny. The other goats are fat and shiny as well (some fatter than others -- Pepper Ann!). Fall is coming. It's getting colder and the leaves are starting to change. Oh well, all good things must come to an end.

On another note, the farmer says she has found me a boyfriend for the fall. His name is "Jazz" and he is quite handsome. He's a Nubian (patooey!) cross, but I have been assured that the Nubian part of him is very faint and hardly noticeable. The farmer says she is trading him for my roommate, Martha. Martha has been acting badly and was put on the list to leave the farm. She was being silly and running away from the farm sitter when the farmer went on vacation. That kind of thing is not allowed and Martha must now find a new home. Also, the farmer says that 5 goats is too many for the small red barn in the winter time. I will miss my roommate, but I will be happy to meet my new boyfriend. Here is a picture of him (please disregard the Nubian (patooey!) ears).

Well, that is all that is happening with me. Later!