Being a Buck Owner - No Small Decision

Hormones are amazing things - I've learned this. They have influenced the course of history for many an entity, (though a CEO would never admit it). Mankind itself, frankly is chained to this fundamental - history in tow. . How do I know? I have a farm!  

We put it off as long as possible, but let's face it - when you own an animal whose value hinges upon lactation, eventually to maintain the value of the animal, your gonna need a buck! We'd have been happy to wait another year, until one day, I spied our virgin doeling developing an udder - no male involved. It's rare, but it happens (which says a lot about the milking capacity of our little gal).

So, we bought a buckling. Five months old. And oh what an impression he made!

Since our silly ole wether is named "Otis", we thought we'd name the little feller after Rome's famed & most handsome emperor - "TITUS".

The breeder couldn't guarantee how he or the girls would behave - so we were on our own. He was so cute, and so small. Just settled right down in the little the dog crate we brought.

Well first thing outta the box, he made a bellering bee-line for the girls on the other side of the fence. Within sixty seconds the kid became a wailing, walking squirt gun. He charged Otis, (probably for fun), and alienated his only, would-be friend. Not sure if Otis was actually afraid of the half-pint, or just didn't want to get a face full, but he trotted off several yards away complaining loudly. Enough with his commarade, Titus sprinted back to the fence line so the girls on the other side could see, hear AND smell him - his debut being quite the extra sensory experience for everyone.

The Kinder does were as bedazzled as three teenage girls over a man with a package. Next door in the Kiko pen, the two Jezebels began showing off slamming heads like a couple of crash test dummies. Well THAT only egged him on.

Suddenly the hair on the back of the Kinder gals stood straight up. In unison, they all started blubbering and tossing around and making these weird noises like they were demon possessed. Titus kept running back and forth - from our wussy wether, then back to strut in front of the vixens on the fence line, unsure if he had been delivered to heaven, or banished to hell. Amidst the uproar and confusion, I couldn't tell him either.

I stood there with my mouth dropped open thinking silently, he's gonna have this sewed up in a week. RJ dropped to her knees and was laughing her pants off. Well that set the dogs off, which set the guineas off, which ALWAYS sets our Chinese geese off. (I'm sure the cacophony from our homestead has the neighbors convinced we deliberately select the loudest breed of every specimen we own).

I tried to take pictures, but most were too obscene to post. Honestly, the entire spectacle was so depraved, it would have probably made the ancient Romans proud.

Today, the goats arrived.

We were out of bed early to drive to the van rental company. Renting the van - another story entirely: "So exactly what ARE you planning to use our van to move anyway?"  (I'm not prone to lying).

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 first walk around Zederkam Farm was educational. Turns out Hannah was looking for a home about the time we were looking for a goat. She was an unregistered purebred, unproven, painfully shy and of course - pregnant. Perfect! The pregnant part was much planned. You can't get milk without this initial, all important step! This, however, would be Hannah's first kidding (thus she was called a "first freshener").    

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.."