The Kids Are Growing Up

They're no longer babies. Acorn and Apple (the two in front) have shed their thick choppy winter coat. Didn't even notice Apple's coming out, but Acorn's shedding was dramatic. I thought he was sick with ringworm or lice, or lack of minerals. I just never noticed any of my goats losing their hair - so it took me aback at first. I helped remove it by combing him while he ate his grain.

Here is a ball of hair after one combing. Now that he is pretty much done shedding, he looks sleek and healthy, and considerably smaller than he had before.

Turnip is part Angora, so he lost some of his hair, but not the parts where his Angora hair has grown. His head, legs, front half of his back and chest all have beautiful short, straight hair. His angora hair is shiny and curly - not very long as of yet. It'll be interesting to watch him as he ages to see how his coat developes.

Apple Dumplin'

Apple, our only doe, is at the bottom of the totem pole in our little herd. At the top of the pile is Acorn, Apple's brother. Then comes Turnip, the outsider. Apple, she's a curious sweetie pie. I can tell that she wants to be friends with me. Many times when I appear in her yard, she cautiously approaches, sticking out her nose toward me to try to determine if I am going to be her friend or foe. When she decides that I am not going to attack her, she begins to lean toward me. I see a twinkling of acceptance and perhaps affection in her gaze. At last, a breakthrough. She will finally accept me into her circle, and allow me to pet her as our handshake of friendship. My hand is just inches from her muzzle, just about to finally pet my little furry buddy. And that's when Acorn notices how close I have gotten to his sister, and he sneezes his cry of retreat. Off Apple runs, trailing behind her two herdmates to the safety of the 20 feet of distance between us. Our magic moment - gone. Our connection - lost. I'll try again tomorrow.

I am sad to admit that my second round of goat keeping is something of a disappointment.

I figured that having smaller goats would keep things manageable and therefore more of a pleasure. True, these Nigerian Dwarfs are smaller and would be more manageable... if I could just catch them that is.

They were about 4 weeks old when I got them from an Alpaca Rescue farm. Two of the three were siblings, and their mother was also at this farm. She seemed friendly enough. Although I guess it never occurred to me that any goat might be unfriendly or that they just plain feared for their life when in close proximity to humans. When the herdswoman told me that we'd have to corner and grab them to pick them up and into my vehicle, it struck me as kind of odd. They bleated a few times en route to the van, I chalked it up to them being shocked by being handled in this way for possibly the first time ever. Seemed within the realm of normal to me. The 20-minute drive home was pretty quiet. When we pulled up at home and opened the back of the van, they were unhappy about being picked up. Not too unusual. We carried them down to their yard and let them go. They explored their space as I went to ready their bottles of milk (they needed to continue on their diet of milk - and hay and grain - for at least another month). I was expecting resistance on their part for the first few feedings; after all, they were used to only nursing from their dam. Once they became hungry enough - drinking from a bottle wouldn't seem like such a bad idea.

Well, it was especially difficult for me to catch them myself, so I had to enlist my sons to help out. Each one of the goat kids put up a really fierce fight. They yelled as if they were being butchered and none were interested at all in drinking the milk. I was surprised at how much they protested to being held while I tried to feed them. But I figured that their reaction would subside with each feeding. I tried feeding the bottles again that evening and I encountered the same response from the goat kids. No interest in drinking the milk. The next morning - the same as the previous day. Now I was getting concerned that this might be a persistent problem. They didn't want to come anywhere near me. If I walked toward them at all, they'd take off, obviously scared out of their minds. After that day, I decided that in the interest of ever being able to touch them, that I'd stop catching them to try to feed them. Luckily, they were going to town on the grain and hay that was being offered. They seemed to be doing fine health-wise. Eating well, looking well, no runny poops, vigorous. I was going to just take it day by day; see how things unfolded. They were still very scared of me. I decided that if I hand-fed them their grain that eventually they'd lose their fear of me, and look to me as their food provider and perhaps, their mother. That's what had happened with every one of my previous goats.

When I offered them grain from my hand, they'd cautiously approach me, then quickly lick up every morsel, each fighting for the prime spot to snatch the most food. As they ate, they were still very skittish, but they'd risk death long enough to eat, then they'd get the heck out of dodge. However, if they wanted to eat at all, they had to eat out of my hand.

I fed them each of their meals this way (for a few days), but eventually gave up my hopes of being friends with them. They still behaved the same way every single time I fed them. I began to let them eat out of bowls. My next brilliant idea was to offer them treats between meals. I was elated when I was able to touch them with one finger for a second or two while they scarfed down their in-between-meal snacks. Finally now, sometimes I can pet them while they eat their grain. But not for long, eventually one of them realizes that they are being accosted, then runs, and the others follow suit. Slowly they return to continue their meal. I reach to try to pet again, and before I can get my whole hand on one of them, off they run again. Sometimes as I walk through their yard to bring more hay, before I can even get within 15 feet of their general vicinity, they'll scamper off - and it looks as though it has become a game for them to run away from me. They do that cute sideways run that goats do when they are really happy and being playful. I don't know, maybe that's simply their happy "it's fresh hay" dance.

I am just sad and disappointed that I gave up on my first goats, deciding to start fresh - and it turning out in a way that I never thought possible. If I were a farmer with hundreds of goats for a business, then I probably wouldn't care that they wanted nothing to do with me, but it bothers me that I have these random animals that I have no connection to. I can't just keep getting goats, then give them away, then get a new batch hoping for the perfect situation. I feel like I have to keep them - but I really want to replace them with friendly ones.