Cat Problem!

Around here, nearly everyone and everything contributes.  We've got several loop systems in place.  For example, let's begin with the goats.  The goats produce milk.  The milk feeds the cats.  The cats hunt mice.  The mice eat the grain in the shed.  The grain in the shed feeds the goats.  So, both the cats and the goats are contributors (I'm not convinced the mice are good for much). 

The darn cats, however, are stepping out of line and causing a real problem in my garden.  They seem to think that the nice, loose soil is there just for them to roll around in, and, worse, poop in.

Here you can see how the poor little bean sprouts are struggling to survive despite recent digging.

Feces! 

My research has turned up several potential solutions.  Lots of them are a lot of work for questionable payoff.  Some of them are not organic.  Some of them are downright toxic.  One organic solution (which I confess I've used in the past when the kitties in question did not belong to us) is to put out black pepper and/or ground mustard.  This burns kitty's paws and will really do a number on her bowels when she licks it off those burning paws.  So, this is out of the question.

Another potential solution is to plant flowers that deter cats.  Marigolds and geraniums, for example, are repulsive to cats.  I've allotted lots of squares in my square-foot-garden for flowers, so I'll plan to use some marigolds and geraniums in those spots.  These flowers also attract beneficial insects to the garden -- an added plus.

Finally, I plan to deploy the big guns and purchase one of these motion-activated sprinklers.  This one from Amazon has great reviews, qualifies for free shipping with Amazon Prime, and is priced at under $50.  That may sound like a lot of money, but if it takes care of the problem, it'll be well worth it.  Those of you who have problems with deer, birds, or other pests, may want to look into the sprinkler as a potential solution, too.  I'll let you know how it works with Scarf and Milkshake.  :)

Does anyone have any other suggestions for solving our little kitty problem?

Chirp, Chirp! Spring Chicks Are Here!

Our spring meat chickens have arrived!  (Please excuse the bedhead, but Girl 2, our biggest chick-lover, was out in the garage cuddling her new chicks by 6:30a.m.)

To save some cash on shipping, we went in on our chick order from Murray McMurray Hatchery with some friends who were excited about welcoming home their first chicks.  Pictured above, WH is excited about his new, tiny pets! 

Is he not adorable, looking on as his daddy moves the chicks in to their new home?

As you may recall from this post, I was a little disgusted by the Cornish Crosses that we raised last year.  It seemed a little contrary to our homesteading goals for us to be raising animals like that, so we were pleased to discover this new offering this year from the hatchery. 

Our new chicks are called Red Rangers, and according to McMurray's description, "The Red Ranger has an outstanding growth rate reaching approximately 6.7 lbs. in just over 80 days.  These birds have great livability and a 70% live to dress weight yield.  The breast meat is in natural proportion to the leg meat.   . . . An excellent forager; the Red Ranger is able to withstand the free range or natural living environment very well."

In other words, it'll grow big enough fast enough to make a good meat chicken without having any of the freakish qualities the Cornish Cross exhibits like breasts so large it cannot walk or a heart that cannot keep up with the demands of its over-sized body. 

Right now, they're an adorable fuzzy yellow, but they'll eventually be a pretty red color (much preferfable to the white of the Cornish Crosses that just always looked dirty to me -- especially once they got too fat for their legs to support them well and spent most of their time squatting on the ground).

Right now, our little chicks are taking up residence in the garage, but once they begin to get their big-boy feathers and the weather is consistently warm enough, they'll be ready to move to the meat chicken tractor where they will get fresh forage daily in the backyard.

Bottle Jaw in Our Anemic Goats

I think I really do learn new things everyday here on our little backyard farm.  This week, John and I have had a crash course in goat anemia.

First, though, isn't Star getting big?  And, so adorable?

Several days ago, I'd noticed that Razz and Honey (our two mommas and milkers) had developed a weirdly large, floppy chin that waggled when they walked.  Naively, I just attributed this to the toll that motherhood was taking on their bodies.  I mean, when I was nursing a newborn, I had a few body parts that waggled when I walked, too.  :)  But, when John noticed it, he was alarmed and researched it enough to discover that it was what is commonly referred to as "bottle jaw."

Bottle jaw can be an indicator of anemia, which is an indicator of parasitic worms. 

To check a goat for worms, you take a peek at their eyelids.  This card shows how a healthy eyelid is bright red/pink.  We'd checked our gals shortly after baby delivery and found them worm-free, as our herd has always been.  Only 5 weeks later, though, upon discovery of the bottle jaw, we checked again and found that their eyelids were the color pictured all the way to the right on the card.  In case you can't make it out, that's a skull and crossbones on the picture.  We were in the danger zone!

We immediately dosed them both with some wormer and consulted with our vet.  We may have caught the situation just in time.  We'll keep a close eye on the girls over the next few days and may have to re-dose on the wormer in about 10 days.  The neck swelling should gradually go down.

Worms tend to be a problem when goats are kept in small areas.  We usually have our herd out in the field, so this isn't a problem.  When we were awaiting the kids' births, though, we moved the mommas in to the smaller backyard field and had them there for awhile.  After giving birth, their immune systems were weaker than normal and made them more susceptible to parasite attack.  This seems as good an explanation as any for why we have a problem now that has never been a problem in our herd before.

Hopefully, this will clear itself up soon, and our girls will regain their full health.  The babies continue to grow and seem unaffected.  Their eyelids indicate they are in good health.  Skull and crossbones icons, though, are pretty scary, and my Google searches have turned up a lot of results that include the word "fatal";  we may have been dangerously close to that, but I'm hoping that our girls are now on the mend.

Come and Get It!

This video shows Oreo running in from the field for his afternoon bottle.

He looks like a puppy dog to me, ears flopping and tail wagging -- so excited about his bottle.  Such a cutie!

The Udder Truth About Honey

Warning . . . goat anatomy pics below!

In the registered dairy goat community, the term "good milker" is frequently used.  I guess I'd assumed it meant merely that the goat produced a good amount of milk or even that she behaved well on the milk stand.  I had no idea whatsoever that goats' udders can vary so much!  Last year, we only milked Razz, and she did great.  Apparently, we didn't know how good we had it.

Here's Razz's udder first thing in the morning -- big and full of milk.  Notice her two teats.  They're nice and big -- easy to get ahold of.

Milking her is easy once you know how to milk.  Here you can see how John has just positioned the bucket underneath her and can go at it, two-handed.  Razz just eats while on the milking stand and seems completely comfortable as she's being milked. 

And, then, there's Honey, our first-time momma and milker.  She's got a nice and full udder . . . but where are her teats?  Look hard.  They're small and pushed right up against her hind legs so that they're very difficult to get ahold of. 

See how John is having to go at it?  His hands are about too large to get a grip on the tiny teats.  Now, milking in general takes some muscle in your hands.  To feel what muscles are used to milk Razz (or any other good milker) squeeze your hand into a tight fist.  To feel what muscles are primarily used to milk Honey, however, press your thumb to your other fingertips as hard as you can.  Can you feel the difference?  It gets pretty painful very quickly.

As if the anatomy problem weren't enough, there's also the small issue of her behavior on the milking stand.

Here, you can see how she tries to kick you off when you try to milk her.  She does this very fast,

and you have to be quick about moving the milk pail out of the way or she'll knock it over, causing you to lose all the milk you've managed to muscle out thus far.  Because of this, John has to milk her one hand at a time, so that he can hold the milk cup in the other hand, ready to snatch it out of the way when she starts to kick.  It's not easy work. 

One of the breeders we've talked to tells us that it will get better with time.  Between our tugging and her babies persistent yanking, the teats should eventually elongate.  That'll help out a little.  If we had a bigger herd and were milking lots of goats, we'd probably just give up on her.  If we were more legit dairy goat farmers, we'd "cull" her and invite the neighbors over for a barbecue.  Alas, however, we are not that legit or large an operation, so we continue to pull on those tiny teats day after day (and by "we," I mean mostly John.  Just compare our hand muscles and you'll see he's the one bearing most of the milking burden right now).   Here's hoping our persistence will pay off and things will eventually get better!  :)

A Gut-Twisting Life of Love

Our forrays into farm life have afforded me a new dimension of understanding, it seems. For example, I might never have made much sense of this excellent metaphor had I not seen our babies in the fields, hour after hour, day after day, bunting their mommas like in this video above. 

Check out this excellent excerpt from the great Barbara Kingsolver in her latest Flight Behavior:

". . . Being a stay-at-home mom was the loneliest kind of lonely, in which she was always and never by herself.  Days and days, hours and hours within them, and days within weeks, at the end of which she might not ever have gotten completely dressed or read any word longer than Chex, and word not ending in -os, or formed a sentence or brushed her teeth or left a single footprint outside the house.  Just motherhood, with its routine costs of providing a largesse that outstripped her physical dimensions.  She'd seen ewes in the pasture whose sixty-pound twins would run underneath together and bunt the udders to release the milk with sharp upward thrusts, jolting the mother's hindquarters off the ground.  That was the picture, overdrawn.  A gut-twisting life of love, consecrated by the roof and walls that contained her and the air she was given to breathe."

In case you're wondering: no, I do not share in this character's feeling of imprisonment.  Not at all.  I do, however, love the description and the way what I see everyday in my own backyard helps me to make sense of it.  Probably every mother (stay-at-home or not) can relate in some way to the physical toll her child's needs take on her own body.  Parenting is a sacrifice of self.  Most days, good days, we do not feel the pain of that sacrifice at all.  We hear our children laugh, we share a quiet moment, and we know we'd sacrifice even so much more for the precious ones in our care.  

But, if we're  honest (and I hope I'm not alone in this) there are other times, times when we're keenly aware of the sacrifices of self that our kids require of us -- times when we'd just like our metaphorical udders to ourselves for just a moment or a chance to go to the bathroom in peace or get a good night's sleep.   Thankfully, these moments are rare enough that I stay sane, that a simple breath of prayer: "Lord, grant me patience" is all it takes to bridge the gap and get me back to overwhelming thankfulness for the opportunity to mother my brood.  :)

Oh, and the rhythmic sucking sound you hear at the beginning of the video is the sound of Oreo (not pictured in the video) sucking his bottle dry as I fed it to him with my left hand while filming Star with my right.  See, even my goat kids have me juggling!

My Babies Are Growing Up So Fast!

Today, on this, Little Boy's 4th birthday, I am keenly aware of how quickly my babies are growing.  I remember rolling out of bed to provide Girl 1 her middle-of-the-night feeding and wondering how much longer this would go on.  Not so long at all, it turns out.  This morning, for example, she came downstairs for breakfast and was entirely ready for the day:  clothes on, hair done, bed made.  She didn't need me at all.  Little Boy still needs me, but it's less and less each day.   It's hard to imagine, but someday soon he won't need me to tell him that his undies are on backward or that his shoes are on the wrong feed (again . . .and again and again).

But, these little goat babies are growing at the rate of 1/4 to 1/2 pound a day!  They've gotten big enough to go out into the field during the day with the rest of the herd. 

As I photograph them with my giant zoom lense, I find it makes me a little anxious to see that they've wandered so far from the house.  My maternal instincts kick in, I guess, and I want to go herd them in and put them back in the backyard pen where I can keep a closer eye on them. 

But, they are fine, of course.  They're out there with their Mommas, after all.  Now that it's warming (somewhat), we've started separating the babies from the Mommas at night.  This allows us to get a good bucketful of milk in the morning before turning them out into the field together. 

It's so strange to see them with their heads down out in the field, grazing like their mothers.  Life happens fast, and little ones grow so quickly, but with these little goats, it seems as if I'm watching them in fast-forward!

Can Goats Be Beautiful?

If you'd asked me last year, I'd have told you no.  They can be cute.  playful.  fun.  But, not beautiful.  That was before I met our little Star Baby. 

In the videos she's the lightest colored one and our only baby girl. 

Her adorable pink nose distinguishes her from the boys and gives her a more feminine look.  Because we know we plan to milk her in the future and will need to handle her a lot, we are being intentional about holding/petting her everyday.  She's pretty affectionate and gives me little kisses while I'm holding her -- so cute!

Oh, and how exactly did Scarf get herself into this precarious spot?

Bottle Baby is Here!

Meet Oreo.  It may seem strange that we would purchase a new little guy while we've got 3 babies running around that were born here just last week.  As you may recall, we lost our only buck Copper a little while back and will need a replacement for him in the fall when it's breeding season once again.  We cannot use one of our own babies as he would be breeding back to his own mother or sister.  That won't work.  We needed a new guy from a new bloodline.

His black and white swirled markings are considered very showy and are quite desirable in the goat world.  John finds him striking.  Honestly, I tend to favor the solid colors like Razz and Honey, but I've quickly learned that is quite out of fashion in goat breeding. 

Honey is sniffing out the new guy.

Because he has no Momma here on our farm, he will be bottle fed for awhle yet.  Right now, he's getting bottles at approximately 7:00am, 3:00pm, and 9:00pm.

He's a lively little guy and seems to be a great addition.  BUT . . . he's a screamer.  And, unlike the soft calls of our other goats,  his is grating!  Listen for yourself in this video John shot yesterday morning:

Goats at Play on This Beautiful Day

For your viewing enjoyment:

They crack me up with this giant rock.  They watch the cats jump up there and jump off, and the poor little goats are SO envious! 

Lenten Week 4: Act Justly

**First, the goats have now been listed on Craigslist.  If you know of anyone who may be interested in one or both of our little guys, please feel free to forward the links below:
http://jonesboro.craigslist.org/grd/3675258055.html
http://jonesboro.craigslist.org/grd/3675255364.html
Thanks!**

This week's Lenten focus is to Act Justly.  This, of course, comes from Micah 6:8 where God tells us what He requires of us: "to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God."

I've heard this verse a lot. But, as a life-long church-goer,  I can't say that I've heard a lot of sermons on "justice."  Mostly, my experience with the term has been more to do with people getting their just desserts or some reference to our legal system.  What does God mean when he asks, no, requires us to "Act Justly"?

I guess the dictionary is as good a place as any to begin.  Just, the adjective, means "guided by truth, reason, equality, fairness."  Well, I definitely want to be like that.  I can think of justice in terms of circles within circles -- the innermost circle being those that I feel are closest to me and the outermost being that vast ocean of humanity that I will never encounter personally.  The innermost circle is my little family.  Am I fair in my treatment of my kids?  Are my expectations of them guided by reason?  Moving out a circle or two, how do I do justice in my community, church, extended family? 
The thing that may be the most challenging, though is thinking about those outermost circles.  If a pebble drops in the water of the innermost circle, do the ripples or waves not eventually reach the outermost circles as well?  Sometimes it's challenging to think in those terms, but I think that acting justly is very much about considering how the way I personally live is affecting my fellow man.  Are the decisions I'm making daily or the systems I'm a part of detrimental to people in the outermost circle -- people who I may never encounter?  

What I can't help but notice about the Bible verse, though,is the verb act.  This is not a call to read about justice or to be in favor of justice.  It is a call to do justice.   To move.  To act.   How do I do that? 

Honestly, this week's focus leaves me reeling a little bit.  I feel ill-equipped.  In the past Lenten weeks, I've had some concrete things that I've done during the week -- things that I can check off a list.  This week, though, -- a week that is all about doing -- I feel at a loss.  I'm struggling with coming up with ideas that are doing justice.  Help?

I wish I had more concrete things to do this week, but, alas, this is all I've got (for now):
1.  Make a list of Fair Trade shopping sites and make use of them when needed to purchase gifts and the like. 
2.  Learn more about how to "Act Justly" in my community.  One way I'll do this is by listening to Shane Claiborne's podcast on the subject (search iTunes to download it for free).
3.  Pray like this:  God, create in me a clean heart, a just heart -- one that is sensitive to injustice, unfairness, and inequality.  Give me eyes that I may see the parts of myself or my world that are unjust and create in me a desire to act out Your justice.

Meet Our Long-Awaited Star!

First, the excellent news:  In the wee hours of Sunday morning, Razz finally had her baby girl.  We've named her First Star!

Isn't she adorable?  She has her Momma's "fancy" ears.

Now, for the dramatic telling of the story . . .

While Honey romped around with her two little baby boys Thursday, Razz began to show early signs of labor, ranging from teeth grinding to fast-paced breathing to low grunting.  According to our books, this should go on no longer than 36 hours.  Thursday night, I "slept" with the baby monitor by the bed but got very little sleep as I jumped any time a goat shifted out in the shed.  My reading suggested that, eventually, early labor would progress into actual pushing that would take about 30 minutes to produce the first kid.  Any subsequent kids would be born within another 30 minutes.  Upset that I narrowly missed the birth of Honey's babies Thursday, I concocted a surefire plan not to miss seeing Razz give birth -- I would check on her every 30 minutes.  Surely with this plan, even if she pushed quickly and delivered a baby within a 30 minute window, I'd make it there in time to see the next one be born.  (And video it, so that I could share it with you).  I mean, she had to be having at least two kids.  I mean, look at how big she was!  She was much larger than Honey who had just delivered twins.  So, beginning Friday morning, I basically followed my 30 minute check-in routine.  And continued that all. day. long.  That night, I allowed myself some sleep and only went out to check on her about 4 times.  But, she didn't seem to be progressing much.  Saturday we had lots of great visitors to the farm, and as little kids romped around with the baby goats, Razz sat off to the side laboring away unproductively.

Saturday night, John and I alternated shifts, taking trips to the shed every 30 minutes to monitor Razz's progress, which she was finally making.  On my trip out at 5:00a.m., my flashlight beam across the field revealed Razz cleaning up her newborn baby!  And, she was big!  But, so was Razz still.  As Razz cleaned up her precious little one, she continued to contract and eventually passed the afterbirth (which can happen after each baby in multiple births).  Still, she contracted . . . and contracted . . . and contracted. 

According to our reading, if a doe contracts unproductively for more than 30 minutes, the baby may be breech and unable to make it through the birth canal, the effects of which are fatal for mother and baby alike if there is no intervention.  If the goatherd can reach inside the doe and help turn the baby and ease her out, all may not be lost.

So . . . yep.  You guessed it.  I donned that OB glove, lubed it up good, and eased my hand into my goat as John held her in a head lock.  It was not a pleasant experience for any of the three parties involved as a very surprised Razz slammed John's arm into the side of the shed.  I went in as far as I could (to my elbow) and was convinced that I was doing it wrong because I couldn't feel a baby.  I made John don a glove and give it a go because I just couldn't believe that she could still be so big, be contracting, and not have another baby in there.  John's search, however, turned up the same results.  Perhaps it was the trauma induced by this incident, but Razz soon quit contracting and began acting much more normally.  The things we do for our animals around here!

She seems to be fine now and is an excellent Momma.  I love to hear the "conversations" she and Star have with one another as they learn to recognize one another's calls.  Razz will be on a round of antibiotics as a preventative measure, which is a good idea anytime a goatherd has to, umm,  "intervene" during delivery.

Now, for some fun photos:  These brothers are so rambunctious and fun!  Here they are hopping around the field -- FC, on the right, is in mid-air!  I love watching them headbutt and wrestle each other -- too cute!

I used to think that a goat pile was about the cutest thing ever.  Then, I saw a baby goat pile and realized that that was maybe the cutest thing ever.  But, I stand corrected.  A baby goat/kitten pile -- THAT is the cutest thing ever!

Since boys only serve one purpose in a dairy herd and these boys can't be bred back to their own mommas and sisters, we will be trying to sell them.  If you know of someone intersted in ADGA registered bucklings, please direct them to us.  We plan to have these guys listed on both Craigslist and GoatSpot by sometime tomorrow.  First Star (we'll call her "Star"), however, will stay.  How could we not keep her?  She's the only daughter of Razz, our herd queen. And, the first girl born on our farm who will eventually become a part of our milking herd. 

**For those who are following my Lenten posts, I haven't forgotten.  I just wanted to get the goat update posted in a timely way.  Tomorrow, I will discuss the week's emphasis of Acting Justly.**

They're Here! They're Here! Our First Babies Are Here!

The day started normal enough.   Girl 1 woke up with a low grade fever and got to stay home from school.  John went about his morning chores, we put Girl 2 on the bus to school, then Girl 1, Little Boy, and I headed to Cherokee Village to pick up our food co-op order.  We were gone about 2 hours.  When we got back, we had two additional members of our backyard herd! 

These adorable brothers are Honey's very first kiddos!

Since the latest daily OB exams had indicated that we had entered the "anytime" phase of this thing, I'd been checking in on the goats pretty frequently, which is what I did as soon as I got home from our errand.  Honey had one baby all cleaned up and tucked away in the corner and was just cleaning up her second little one.  We have the baby monitor set up in the goat barn, so I knew Girl 1 would hear me when I started yelling, "Babies!  Babies!  Call Daddy!" 

She got him on the phone, we told him the news, and he rushed home to deal with the after-birth chores.  Oh, wait, no.  That's what I thought was going to happen.  Instead, he informed me that he was in a meeting he couldn't get out of and would be home when he could.  Apparently, he had complete confidence that I could take care of this.  And, so I did!

With Girl 1 as my assistant and Little Boy entirely underfoot, we went methodically (and amazingly without freaking out) through the "snip, dip, strip, and sip" procedures I'd so carefully studied up on in preparation for this big moment. 

I snipped the umbilical cords; dipped the remaining nubs in iodine, stripped Honey's teats to be sure that her colostrum was in and ready to go, and got the babies to sip their first meal.  Actually, the darker baby was really having a hard time standing (we're not too worried -- apparently, it can take 'em awhile to get their legs figured out), so I had to give him some colostrum by syringe to be sure that he got it within the recommended first two hours after birth. 

It was such a beautiful day!  Here are Momma and babies enjoying an afternoon nap in the sun.

The kitties were really intrigued by the new arrivals.

When Girl 2 got off the bus at the end of the driveway, Little Boy  was shouting "WE GOT BABIES!  WE GOT BABIES!"  Girl 2 high-tailed it to the backyard, running right through the backyard gate rather than through the house, backpack in tow.  Her excitement was contagious, and we all ran after her.

Honey is an excellent mother so far.

Razz, our other expectant momma, started showing signs of early labor late yesterday afternoon.  She was grinding her teeth with the pain of contractions but loving this brushing!  Girl 1 was distraught upon hearing that Razz was in pain:  "Are people ever in pain when they have babies?"  ;)

If I'm being honest, there are days when I question what we're doing here.  Surely we all have days like that.  "This is a lot of work.  Is it worth it?"  Today, though, was not one of those days.  Seeing those babies, seeing Honey instinctively taking care, seeing my own kids' excitement at this miracle made it all so worth it. It was indeed a good day to be living on our little farm.

Oh, and visitors welcome anytime!  The photos really don't do them justice.  :)

Any Time Now!

We have now reached the stage in awaiting our goat kids when it really could be any time!  In their own ways, both gals are showing signs that they're nearing delivery.  Razz, is spending more and more time in the goat shelter-- nesting, perhaps.  Supposedly, they do actually dig a bit of a nest for birthing.  Meanwhile, Honey is 'bagging up."  This unseemly terminology means that her udder it starting to enlarge.  For "first fresheners" (1st time mommas, like Honey), this can happen as much as a month before birthing, whereas more experienced mommas don't tend to "bag up" until just before delivery.  At the risk of giving a little too much information, we've also noticed some mucous, so that's a good sign that the time is drawing nigh. 

I've trimmed my fingernails down to the nubs (and am now useless when it comes to getting bananas and cuties "started," which I'm asked to do at least 6 times a day).  If I must don those OB gloves and assist with a breech kid, I'll be ready and won't risk scratching the girls in the process.

Here's our birthing tool kit all stocked and ready to go.  We purchased some nipples for bottle feeding that fit neatly over the top of a pop bottle, making use of something most people already have on hand (but, ironically, we had to especially buy).  It's definitely a cheaper option than purchasing bottles as well as nipples.

And, this box (holding items too large for the tool box) is waiting by the backdoor.  Old towels for cleaning and warming kids, newspaper to wrap up and discard the afterbirth, wipes for all manner of nastiness that could be involved, molasses to reward the mommas, and a box in which to nestle the first-born kid while momma is thrashing about in the throws of delivering a second (should there be one).

I've been re-reading the birthing sections of our goat books, trying to be sure that we'll be prepared for anything.  One book mentions that the momma "may drift away from the herd to seek a private birthing spot, sometimes in the company of her dam (mother) or a daughter, sister, or best friend."  I love that!  When the time comes, she wants her mom or gal pal by her side in the delivery room.

When I was pregnant with Girl 1 (my only experience with pregnancy, remember), I was very patient right up to her due date.  At that point, though, I was ready!  I'd been walking nearly everyday, but, having heard that it would prompt labor, I was determined to walk that girl out!  I think that John and I walked about 7 miles over the course of that day and into the night before she was born the next day.  I wonder if that might work for goats, too.  The gals usually follow me when I go out into the field.  Maybe I'll go walk the fenceline to try to get them moving!  Or maybe I should hold off on trying to hurry things up until after the impending ice storm has passed.  ;)

Razz Wants It All!

Each morning, our preggo goats get some grain to supplement their hay and grazing.  They were being fed in a shared trough, but Razz, the herd queen, refused to share, so we went to separate bowls. 

As you can see in this video, Razz (the one first pictured) refuses to be limited to just one of the bowls.  Poor Honey gets basically nothing! 

This video may not be viewable on a mobile device, so you'll have to pull it up on your PC.  Ahh, technology. 

While it does seem a bit harsh (Honey is pregnant, too, after all), I can definitely relate. I wouldn't have wanted anyone to stand between me and my strawberry Pop-Tarts back when I was pregnant.  ;)

What? You Don't Take Pictures of Goat Rumps?

So, even though we're still about 1 week away from official "on alert" time, I am obsessed with waiting for our new babies to arrive.  The mommas are getting increasingly cranky the bigger they get.  I guess that's normal.  Razz will not tolerate Honey getting any of the grain they're fed in the mornings and protects the bowl visciously.  Honey, who normally loves up on me, is keeping her distance.  Thankfully, Razz was kind enough to allow me these pics of her hindquarters this morning, though.

Apparently, as they get nearer to delivery the ligaments in their rumps will loosen dramatically.  So, if you're accustomed to what they feel like normally, you'll be able to gage how close they are to delivery as the ligaments loosen.  The two ligaments I'm feeling for run on either side of the backbone/tail making like a peace sign.

They are the ligaments that allow goats to do this -- raise their tails.  At delivery time, the ligaments will be so loose that they're basically unable to raise their tails.

Here, I am feeling for the ligaments which still feel pretty tight on Razz.  Honey's are actually looser, even though she still doesn't look as large as Razz. 

So, you may be thinking that this is an odd post for Valentine's Day.  Maybe tomorrow I'll post about the kid's Valentines and how we celebrated.  But, for today, what says "I love you" more than my sweet goat thinking, "you know what, I'm pregnant and tired and fat and just generally not loving life today, but, yes, I will allow you to feel around on my rump a bit and even photograph it, if that's really how you want to spend your morning.  I just love you that much."  I mean, really, how many of us would tolerate such?

Maternity Ward Up and Running

John put in a few hours of work around the backyard yesterday afternoon.  Among other things, he readied the goat pen closest to the house for use as the maternity ward. We're now within a month of kidding and need to ramp up the grain for the expectant mommas. 

Razz, one of the mommas-to-be, is an experienced Momma and milker  She's showing quite a bit more than Honey right now. 

Here's a view from above.  That lump on the left in the photo is where I think I've been able to feel some movement lately. 

This brings me to one of the great things about goats.  I absolutely love being able to put my hand on a belly and feel the new life inside.  I've had pregnant friends/sisters who've been pretty indulgent and allowed me a quick feel now and then of the kicks they detect.  But, I'm too self-conscious to ask them if I can just leave my hand there while we watch a show or carry on our conversation.  I mean that would just be weird.  But, Razz doesn't seem to care a bit.  Maybe, since I've spent so many early mornings pulling on her teats, she feels we're beyond being self-conscious around one another.  Anyway, so long as I give her enough head-scratches, she'll let me stand, pressing my hand all over her swollen belly for long stretches at a time.  It's great!

I told John that I was tempted to feed the gals some orange juice.  I remember when I was pregnant with Girl 1, that always seemed to really get her moving.  I could tell by his reaction that he disapproved of the idea, so I'll try to restrain myself.

The shed -- all cleaned out and ready for birthing.

Here's Honey.  She's not nearly as filled out yet.  Hopefully, she'll put on some weight in the coming weeks.

Chubby's New Home

For those of you who read the Tale of Chubby the Chicken,  you'll be happy to know that he's now moved on to a new home (and it's not my stock pot).

As Chubby continued to perfect his crow and practice it at all hours of the day (and night) in our backyard, we continued to ask around to see who might like to add him to their flock.  Several weeks in to this process, we finally found him a home!  Interestingly, he went to live on the farm where we got our very first laying hens.  There, he'll be free to range the wide open spaces and enjoy country life!

Here, Girls 1 and 2 say farewell to Chubby before delivering him to his new home.

Mourning Our Beloved Copper

For those who were eagerly awaiting the Almond Milk recipe, I apologize.  You'll have to wait until Monday.  This news is just too big to put off.

This lovable fella is no longer with us.  Yep, it's Copper, our little buckling that you readers helped name so many months ago.  Yesterday morning, John found him lying dead in the goat pen. 

He was a scrawny little guy, and we'd actually had the vet out to take a look at him just a couple weeks ago.  He'd been spending most of the day in the goat shed and rarely eating.  Still, we don't know exactly what caused his death.  We're left with lots of questions . . . and lots of sadness.

Here he is in one of his favorite spots, playing king of the rock.

After breakfast, we broke the news to the kids and asked them if they'd like to go out and say goodbye.  They all wanted to, so we huddled together in the cold around our little goat's lifeless body and cried and prayed a prayer together.

As John explained to them, we are so blessed on our little farm to be surrounded by so much life.  But, with that comes death.

After they'd said their goodbyes, I rushed back inside with them to throw Girl 1's hair into a ponytail before carting the girls to school.  "My ponytail is all wrong!" she cried.  "It's bouncy, but I'm not."

I tried to encourage the girls before I dropped them at school by reminding them that we will still have some piece of Copper with us because he's the daddy to the goat kids we are expecting in a matter of weeks.  Who knows -- we may even have a kid that looks a bit like him.  Also, his death means that we'll be needing another buck for the farm, so we'll have the addition of yet another animal to look forward to. 

Once the girls were dropped at school, John, Little Boy, and I hauled Copper's body over to MeeMee's farm to deposit on the "bone pile" burial area where deer carcasses and such are placed. 

Here, Little Boy holds Copper's collar in his lap as we drive away.  He just kept wanting to know why.  "Why Copper is dead, Momma? Why?"  Copper was, after all, his goat.  Girl 2 promised to share her goat with him from now on.

We've been keeping the boys separate from the gals lately.  So, Copper's only companion has been this guy, Dallas.  Goats can't stand to be alone, though, so we had to turn Dallas out into the field with the girls this morning.

John and I both managed to hold it together pretty well in front of the kids.  But, when I saw Dallas wandering the field this morning by himself, as if he were looking for his buddy, I just lost it. 

He did eventually come back up to see me and eat some hay.  But, the loss of his friend will be an adjustment for him.

So, even as I go out daily and press on the Momma goat's swollen bellies in hopes of feeling a kick from inside and eagerly await the joy of birth, here we are -- mourning death. 

Such is farm life, I suppose -- an up-close and personal view of the cycle.   

So, yesterday was a hard day.  But, I don't wish away the sorrow.  I'll gladly bear it, as infrequently as it comes, in exchange for the extreme happiness this farm life brings us everyday.

Thank you, God, for the lessons that you teach us all through your beautiful creation.  We are humbled that you have entrusted it to our care.  With your help, may we ever be faithful to that calling. 

Amen.

Goat Kidding Prep

To prepare for our first-ever backyard goat kidding, we had a few items we needed to order.  Those items (along with things we'd need for kid care and milking) have arrived!

We are approximately one month from kidding now.  All supplies are in.  I've tested the baby monitor to be sure that it will reach from the house to the goat barn (apparently, they'll "thrash" around, making a bed of hay to use for kidding.  This should alert us that it's almost time).  We've purchased a separate tool box to hold all our kidding supplies, so that we'll have them at-the-ready.  We probably still need to clean the barn up a bit as it's been virtually unused during the last couple of months since we've not been milking.

I've been reading up on the goat kidding process, but I had to stop doing it just before bed as it was causing me to have all kinds of dreams about baby goats (some of them rather disturbing).  Most of the time, goats can manage delivery okay without assistance, but it's still a good idea for us to be present in the event that we need to intervene (kid is in an abnormal position) or the delivery is not progressing as it should. 

For now, I keep going out and pressing my hand to the right side of their belly.  Any day now, I should be able to feel kicks!   Can't you just feel the excitement?!  Don't worry -- I'll keep you in the loop on how things are going -- wouldn't want you to miss a thing!