It's much like the arrival of a new baby, really. We know our lives will soon be completely changed, but we're not sure quite how. And oh, the anxiety. How will we know if they're eating enough? What does it mean when they sneeze? How will we know if they're cold? Frightened? We've taken vacation days knowing we'll want to check on them a hundred times a day...
...Now, this all started 7 months ago with a milking bucket. Yep, we often begin from unusual base points. In fact, we occasionally step back and marvel over how the acquisition of a seemingly insignificant object suddenly avalanches into a whole new, life changing project. (Thank God we didn't buy an anchor!).
We drove 30 miles through pelting rain to meet the seller and purchase our "stainless steal". We didn't actually have goats at the time, nor fencing, nor a barn. But we were going to buy that bucket! Ironically enough, the exchange took place at a Super Mall, a sharp contrast to our quiet, earthy farmstead. I'll bet we could'a searched through the entire 8 acres of shopping extravaganza and never have found a stainless steel milking bucket! Driving home proud as punch, polishing our new silver bucket, we knew it time to begin our search for some goats to go with it.
We opted for Kinder goats, a fairly new breed originally achieved by crossing Pygmy goats (Meat goats in Africa - Dog size pets in America) with a Nubian (the high strung, high butterfat, princesses of the goat world). The result? A smaller, dual purpose animal that seems to express the best of both breeds: wonderful rich product, without all the drama!
Our breeder was exceptionally helpful and offered to keep Hannah through her kidding, and then train her to the milk stand. In tandem, we returned every weekend for goat keeping lessons and visits. Desiring to be familiar and wonderful, we always made sure to bring treats. Pockets full! "Yippee! Must be Saturday. The 'Peanut Ladies' are here again!"
On June 15th, Hannah gave birth to triplets. Two doelings and a handsome buckling (soon to be "wethered"). Since Hannah came pre-named, we christened her offspring, Verna, Nina and Otis. Aren't they adorable? As one friend put it, "Those are the cutest lawn mowers I've ever seen". Better yet, Hannah proved a worthy wager. She was an easy milker, with a sturdy udder, a good mother, sensible, though somewhat shy.What more could we ask for?
On July 5th the actual transaction took place. Our fate was sealed. We were goat owners. At home, construction on the goat barn accelerated. Frantic books on "How to Raise Goats" were acquired. A corner of the house became a collection point for the sundry items we'd need for our new arrivals: a grain scoop, mineral, feed bags, a pasteurizer.. (some of these items, not so cheap!).
Weekends were split between building and our weekly visits. We learned to milk. We learned to trim hoofs. We learned about grade A, B & C. We learned not to be afraid of raw milk.
And now, we've come to the big day. We're all set. We have our barn, our bag balm, our bucket. Driving to the van rental company, we're quiet, each ruminating over our own thoughts, "Will it go smoothly? Will they like their new home? Will the fences hold? Will she kick and fuss about the new milking parlor? Simultaneously, we're composing in our heads the words we'll need to reassure the rental guy one more time that the van won't be trashed after moving four goats to their new home.
If Hannah had a blog, I wonder how it would start... "Today, we moved in with the peanut ladies.."
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