Milking Trials

We have become accustomed to having fresh goat milk on hand even though only Jennifer is being milked consistently and Cocoa slips in and out of the Mommy-Share Plan (whereby she may still nurse her kid part-time). Jennifer, our "deer colored" tan-and-brown doe, settled into the routine pretty quickly and after several days milking time with Jennifer became pleasant, even enjoyable. Adding Cocoa to the mix caused that peace to evaporate.

Cocoa is a strong-willed doe who complies with requests when it suits her (such as coming in at feeding time) but becomes downright ornery when she disagrees. Although she was semi-willing to participate in milking at first, over time her attitude soured to the point that every attempt is a fight. And she is much stronger than I. Although I’ve begun to dream about a fully-functional milking stand, with side rails to restrict side-to-side dance steps and perhaps a bar across the rump to limit jumping and bucking, my carpentry skills are limited and my time even more limited.

Yesterday I was running against the clock and let Cocoa go without milking after she had put up a good fight. Between having a sore shoulder and off-farm commitments, I was not up for the struggle necessary. I promised myself that I would install side rails that afternoon (after fixing the spot I had finally discovered where the young bucks slip easily out of the home pasture, and completing all other chores of course). That I did install one side rail is an accomplishment, and it certainly helped today.

This morning I woke to rolling thunder and rain pounding on our metal roof. When I saw no signs of the deluge abating, I proceeded with my chores in the rain. The rain jacket and muck boots did help for the first hour or so, and I even sat to milk at our outdoor stand without getting wet (at first). Since I already have an umbrella in place to shade the milking doe’s head from sunlight, extending that to provide her with full coverage was easily managed by adding a torn-open dog food bag over the butt-end of the stand. (Most feed bags have plastic linings, but our dog kibble comes in nicely-slick bags, good for trash collecting and other chores.)

Cocoa was willing to come to the milking stand and place her head through the stanchion so she could reach the sweet feed waiting for her, but she was not willing to stand still without a fight. Amazingly the side rail helped a good deal. When I abandoned all hopes of getting clean milk for human consumption, I let her soak a foot in the milk pail as I gathered her milk for crafts. (I’d like to try my hand at making goat’s milk body lotion.) Since her udders were engorged after yesterday's missed milking, Cocoa was producing a good deal of milk and quickly. I’m guessing we had about a pound of milk in the bucket when she thought to kick it over. Too bad no puppies were underfoot; they would have enjoyed it. With the rain pouring down around us, I finished up the milking session by just squirting Cocoa's milk onto the stand, then I stopped at a moment when she was agreeably calm and set her free to nurse her kid.

Discouraged by the rain—I was good and soaked by then—I would have let Jennifer wait until later for milking, but she was eager to come out and get to work. Yesterday we had had such a successful milking session, she had been decidedly calm and willing, that I was hoping for a repeat today. No such luck. When I had put her up the night before she was showing signs of being in heat, and this morning she clearly had other things on her mind besides milking. While her milk sang against the sides of the pail, Jennifer swatted her tail vehemently and danced with her hind feet—letting me know in no uncertain terms that my efforts were unappreciated. I did get a half-pound of milk for crafting before turning her loose, whereupon she ran straight to the home pasture to smooch up BullyBob through the fence. He was mighty pleased to see her.

Although I had planned to try delaying breeding until October, Jennifer became my second concession. Over the weekend I had granted Ms. Isobel a 36-hour date with Whiskey after she had nearly torn down the home pasture fence trying to get through it to BullyBob. (Unfortunately for Bully, she’s a fainter and he’s a Nigerian Dwarf. Both Isobel and Denise miscarried kids sired by BullyBob not too long ago, so I had no plans to pair them again. Whiskey is our number one fainter buck and we’re hoping he’s ready for the job.) Now Jennifer wanted time with Bully and I lat her have it.

At this time, Bully and Jennifer are isolated in a stall for the day (or longer). She was randy enough that she allowed both Sting and Whiskey to mount her (after Bully) while I was still trying to separate her and BullyBob from the herd. (Poor Sting was confused. At first he rushed to nurse; he’s been away from his dam for some weeks now. Then he shifted into breeding mode.Finally he found the stall door shut in his face and himself standing outside it with Whiskey and the other animals.) Jennifer was ready, more than ready if that's possible, for a hot date this morning. If she conceives, we can expect her to kid in mid-February.

I guess I’m just a soft touch. When does are so insistent, I’m inclined to cave to their desires, but I need to regulate the pairings. We would be happy to have kids arriving a week or two apart through the late winder and early spring and we can achieve that if only I’ll stand my ground. At least we are more knowledgeable this year and should suffer fewer losses to the cold.

Come on, goat gals, give me a break already.