Stinky Bucks in Quarantine

Stinky Sting lurks near the gate, lying in wait for any entrant

When the bucks in rut began piling up behind the uppermost gate, a rowdy welcoming committee ready to greet any entrants, our operations manager rebelled. All animals, she decreed, must be contained behind fences immediately. We hustled and rushed, tucked goats into pens, and began setting up fence panels in earnest. By Saturday afternoon no goats wandered loose, and new fence panels--from Edwards Feed--lined one side of an old pasture about to be reclaimed for use by the alpacas. Unfortunately, with the excitement of trundling out new fence panels underneath the hot sun, I neglected to pay attention to my hydration and paid for this lapse in judgment when, after opening the front gate for a friend, I could not climb back up the hill to our porch. Oops.

The bucks were moved into the raised bed holding pen so fast that their heads must have been spinning. No lie.

By the time Artemis arrived, every last one of the stinking bucks had been herded into the pen atop what was once a raised garden bed beside the barn. The greens had begun growing again at one side of the pen, and they were greeted with buckets of fresh water and new flakes of hay as well, so they moved without much fuss. Although I wanted to show off my little prize bucks in all of their rutting rottenness, Artemis was not moved to approach the lot. "I can smell them just fine from over here," I believe is what she said.

Clockwise: Whiskey, Brad, Bully, and Sting facing the camera. That's Joshua focusing on food between Brad and Bully.

So the boys were left to their own devices, but I did check on them again at dusk. The ringleaders--Bully, Brad, Sting, and Whiskey--bullied their way to the front of the hay pile, then all looked up in time to have their photo taken. At this moment, mid-October seems to be a long way off, but we're doing better than last year in keeping the does and bucks separated.