Brooding On

Confessions of a Frustrated Goatherd

First, for those who are unfamiliar with the term:  

goat·herd  noun  : a person who watches over a herd of goats


Moving on . . .

It's been about two weeks since I began singing my song about Honey bagging up.  I've been not-so-patiently waiting for her baby (or babies) to make their big appearance.  I've avoided blogging about it, because I don't really know what's going on out there in that field.  

I guess we've got a few options (some of which are much more plausible than others):

1.  She's not really pregnant.  Maybe she ate one of the kids' soccer balls that they're always leaving out all over the yard.  Would this also cause her udder to swell? 

2.  She is pregnant, and John and I are horrible at math since, by our calculations, she was removed from the buck too long ago to still be pregnant.  

3.  She is pregnant but not by our buck since he was removed from the pen too long ago.  Are we going to be the first people ever to see a half-coyote/half-goat born on our farm?

4.  She is pregnant and worked very hard to get that way since the buck she is bred to was on the other side of the fence when the deed took place.  We may have some pretty talented and acrobatic goats!  

What do you think?  Which could it be?  ;)


On a positive note, one of our friends' goats gave birth last night, and they were thinking that she was WAY beyond when she should have delivered.  Maybe there's hope for us yet. 

Oh, and I discovered this at the farm this past week:


That, my friends, is a native dogwood tree.  Growing wild.  On the farm.  On the edge of the pasture that will be in view of our future back porch.  

We may not have baby goats yet, but blessing still abound!