Just a couple of short days after returning from Seattle, S. and I took the plunge and finally decided to have a kid, and we got her mother in the deal. Meet Kitty (the Mom) and Cleopatra (Cleo for short) the kid. They are oberhasli/nubian crosses (hence the bay fur with the airplane ears).
S. and I both have been reading up on goats - how to house them, how to feed them, how to milk them. We visited our vet's barn to see how she does it and got some tips on milking and other issues (she also sold us the goats). However, as we have no real experience with the animals, most of our planning resulted in taking a "wait and see" approach. We took care of their basic needs by building a milking stand and goat shed (see previous posts) and had a few options for where to pasture them. Otherwise, we just took the plunge. We figured "we have horses, so how much different could it be?"
Turns out, pretty different.
E. dropped them off Monday night around milking time to find that S. and I had erected a pretty nice little temporary goat paddock and shed. The 12'x12' paddock was made of free standing hog panel. This was certainly not an ideal pen, but we figured it would keep the goats in and the dogs out for the night until we assessed more permanent housing.
E. mentioned that Kitty might "cry a bit" and took off with a wave and a smile. "Have fun," he said, and walked away with a spring in his step. He only had six milkers left at the house (down from 10 or 12) so he seemed pretty pleased. Also a little amused at us.
As soon as E. walked away, Cleo started baying a cute little "Mahhh..." that one expects from a slightly upset goat. Then Kitty laid in. Her cry sounded like the below you'd hear from a drunk frat boy yelling at his ex girlfriend's window at 2 AM. "Brawwww!", "Mehhhhhew!", "Whaaoaoar". I don't know how else to describe it, except that it was loud, prolonged, and horrible. Also, since they were housed on the lawn on the south side of the house, her bellow ricocheted off of our house, the neighbor's house, and the ward house across the way.
During the first few minutes, Kitty managed to bend the hog wire out of shape and it became clear that a more permanent situation would not wait until morning. We took her out to milk, and found that as long as we had both in hand, they were quiet and inquisitive and very easy to manage. She milked fine, producing about 20 ounces after finally figuring out the new milking stand (turns out, we had it backwards - she is used to being milked from her right side).
After the milking, we brought in the horses and turned the pair out in Maisy's paddock, where the cacophony continued. And while the volume and frequency stayed about the same, at least we had remedied the echo, a marked improvement!
Before bed, we brought the dogs out (leashed!) to see what they thought of the goats. Both of them barked and lunged at the goats, but unlike the horses, the goats stood their ground, stomped, and snorted. In the end, this might make all the difference for Captain, to have an animal that isn't intimidated by all his barking and circling. We will have to see.
After the dogs, it was off to bed. I slept fitfully given the dogs barking and Kitty braying, and S. slept not at all, but since that first night Kitty and Cleo have settled a bit, the dogs are getting accustomed to the new arrangement, and we've milked Kitty three times. So far, so good...
And I am surprised to learn how much different the goats are from our horses. Where horses are aloof and a bit standoff-ish, the goats are immediately curious and companionable. If you open a gate, the goats crowd out, then stand next to you or follow you around. Yesterday, S. and I spent some time in the back pasture with them, sitting on logs and watching them browse in the bushes. Within a few minutes, Cleo was sitting at S.'s feet, curled into a comfortable ball chewing her cud. That was completely unexpected.
There are horse people. Turns out, there may also be goat people. And I think I'm one of them.
1 comment:
gorgeous!
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