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.

Three Nigerian Dwarfs

Last Saturday three new arrivals joined our farm family. Apple, Acorn, and Turnip; two month-old Nigerian Pygmy goats. Unfortunately, they are not friendly right now. They are very scared of us and won't come near unless there is food involved. I am hoping that with time, patience, and food treats they will learn to accept us as part of their family.
These goats will just be pets - at this point. They are a miniature breed, so will always be small. This is part of the reason I wanted them. They should be much easier to handle. However they do have horns; we'll see how that goes. People that have goats with horns swear that they'd have it no other way; people who have goats without horns say they'd have it no other way. Supposedly the horns make great handles if needed. The bucklings (Acorn and Turnip) will be castrated later this month. Castrated males are referred to as wethers. They are more gentle and don't have that strong smell like unaltered males do.They are very healthy and happy so far. The thing I will concentrate on the most is spending plenty of time in their yard and letting them get used to me. They love Fritos, so I'm hoping that the best way to a goat's heart is through it's stomach. We'll keep you posted.

End of the Milk Supply

I have chosen to dry up Ginger so as to ease my work load around here. With school back in session I am now so busy with volunteering obligations and basic home necessities and tasks that I had to find a place to cut corners with my time. Unfortunately, the corner I cut was with the goats.

After a bit of research, I learned that the easiest and best way to dry her up is to just stop milking her. Normally, a dairy goat produces milk for ten months after freshening (birthing). So really, Ginger could have produced milk for me until at least January (She was producing on average 12 pounds a day on the last day she was milked - that's a gallon a day). I had thought that I would just not milk her out all the way and naturally and gradually reduce her milk supply over a few weeks; but books say cold turkey is best for goats. For the first week I still cleaned her udders and used teat dip to help prevent mastitis while feeding her on the milk stand. I also used Udder Balm to keep her huge and full udder soft and conditioned. She is doing fine a week later, still a full-looking udder, but it's not hard or hot or red... no sign of mastitis. That's good. I have also reduced her grain amount to just short of two pounds a day; she was getting six pounds, which is crazy, but she seemed to have needed it - and she never got fat in the least. I always felt like I still needed to be giving her even more grain! Anyhow, she seems to be adjusting nicely.

I am now mulling over in my head how to approach this upcoming breeding season. Who to breed? Breed just one goat? Both? Neither? I have wondered about selling both of these girls and starting anew with a different breed, particularly a smaller breed. Ginger is a strong giant of a goat, and she's hard to handle. Another concern I have about breeding Ginger is that she has a lame front leg and I can't see her being able to carry another pregnancy on that leg. I'm afraid it'll just snap in two or she'll not be able to stand on it and just lay on the ground for that last couple months.

Clover is an ideal size in my mind; easily overpowered if need be, and just gentle-natured, she pretty much will go wherever you take her on a leash; but Togg milk is supposedly not great for drinking, and more suited for cheesemaking. I would like to use the milk for drinking and baking, not just for making cheese. So I think I need a more versatile breed. On paper Nubians seem to be the ideal breed for me, but I wasn't so fond of Juniper and Tulip's dispositions. They were loud, fussy, nervous, and not generally friendly to anyone other than me. I figured it was a Nubian breed thing. I could be wrong. It would be pretty easy to aquire more nubians locally.

I feel that perhaps Ginger and Clover should be a package deal since they've been together all of this time, and they are jolly friends. John is not thrilled at all about the idea of getting new goats. I can't blame him, really. But I feel the need to begin again after becoming more familiar with these caprines.

I'm thinking of maybe getting a job too - so how would goats fit into that picture, if at all?

I've got a lot of thinking to do.

The Gruners come a-milkin'

Emma - Jake's best friend - gives it a shot.

Asa - the old pro! Check that finger placement and strong milk stream!

Ann, Emma's mom, also gave milking a try. I am showing her the finger placement that I use.

Ann loves a quart or two of Ginger's milk once in a while. She puts it in her coffee and makes bread with it. Ann is the Wonder Woman who taught me how to make bread. Actually, she let me make it with her and gave me the confidence to finally try it again, on my own, after a 15-year hiatus. My very first loaf of bread back in about '91 was a squat little brick-of-a-loaf. I decided that I needed to meet someone who would walk me through breadmaking. It was really hard learning from a book... finally after all of these years, Ann comes along and happily shows me the ropes. She makes it look so easy.

Another great thing about Ann is that she sews too! That's another thing that I've been wanting to learn alongside someone who actually knows how (as opposed to reading how out of a book). She's happy to teach me that too! I'll let you know how that goes.

Guest Milkers - you could be one too!

One of the things we love most when friends come over is to take them down to let them milk our dairy goat, Ginger. I don't think anyone has ever refused the offer to give milking a try. Ginger is a great sport about it all; as long as she has grain in her dish, she's cool with just about anything.

Here we have Asa's good friend from school. She enjoyed the experience very much.

Here is cousin Nick. A natural. He got a good stream going pretty quickly.

On the left is cousin Jo; somehow we had four people milking the 'ol gal at one time.

Aunt Tammy - also a natural.
Asa takes his turn on Ginger's left, while Tammy works on the right.

Then next day, Ginger was very tender from all the different hands practicing on her. She did a lot of jig dancing and fussing at me when I went to milk her. She's just about back to her tough self again.

how to know when you're done milking

When I first began milking my goat back in April, I wondered if I would know when to stop milking her. How would I know when her udder was empty? Back then I just stopped when it seemed like I did it long enough, or when the milk stream started to slow down. After becoming more experienced I did figure out that when it's empty, you really know it; no doubts. The next freshening, I will be able to get more milk from my goat because now I know how to really "milk her out". The more milk you demand of her, the more she will produce, so milking out all the way keeps her producing the most her body is capable of.

This is Ginger before I milked her this morning (her feet are purple from an antibacterial spray I applied to her because of a skin condition).

Notice how her teats are full and pointing forward.

So then I milked her for about ten minutes or so, and I know that we are finished when I can no longer squeeze out milk. We get to the point where when I squeeze, barely any milk comes out, and the teat basically stays "deflated" - at this point I can't help but say: "Awwww, poor Ginger". This sight always makes me feel so sorry for her!

The upper udder is still round and full, but the lower udder and teats are clearly depleted.

The skin is wrinkled and the udder all shriveled and the teats just hang down and flap in the wind. The girl has given all she can. She's done her duty! Thank you Ginger.