Scenting Babes

The yearling fainter buck Brad sniffing the air for scents of open doe. Brad is FILTHY with the evidence of his ardor.

The excitement of fall is in the air. This afternoon the large dairy goats were wandering about the upper grounds, browsing on freshly-fallen leaves and twigs, seemingly enjoying the warmth of the sun in what is now fairly dry air. When I was gathering materials in preparation for milking, I noticed that the Nubian doe Pamela was hanging around the stinky bucks' pen. Clearly she is in heat, ready to breed, and was checking out the possibilities. I hadn't the heart to tell her that none of our bucks will be hired for the job, that she'll have to wait for me to contact someone with a large dairy buck, but I didn't feel bad because although she was sniffing around their pen, she didn't go to the lengths that I've seen the fainter does go--leaning on the fence, willing themselves through the wire mesh, and generally mooning about the boys. No, Pamela was interested, yes, but not yet smitten.

Our fainter buck Whiskey, scenting a doe in heat on the afternoon's late breezes.

The bucks, on the other hand, were eager. The grunting and snorting from their corner of the universe when she came near was a little concert on the autumn air. And while our most active bucks were involved, of course--Bully, Brad, Sting, and Joshua (although he is more subtle, even suave)--so too was our oldest fainting buck, Whiskey--whose libidinal drive appears to be practically nonexistent. As the shadows grew long and the late day's sun glowed upon the bucks in their pen, I stood to watch their agitation.

BullyBob, nostrils wide to catch Pamela's scent, redolent with accumulated liberal applications of goat buck cologne.

Bully, of course, was busily scenting the air and applying goat buck cologne with a liberal--um, I cannot say "hand"--dispensing of the golden and foul-smelling perfume. I almost miss the teasing our operations manager did last year, watching Bully and singing, "I'm so sexy--unh, don'tcha want me--unh, come watch me pee on myself..." The camera caught the late day's sun highlighting his urine-yellow face and beard.

Breeding time is fast approaching. This coming year we should not lose any kids to the cold and none should be born before mid-to-late March. Finally, a lesson learned and effective caprine management strategies in place.  It seems we're getting the hang of this farming gig. Yippee!