The Bucklings Move On

Stroganoff, big enough to move away from the farm.

The thermometer on my car's dashboard has reported triple-digit temperatures frequently of late. Oddly, weekends have been cooler but excessive humidity necessarily shortens outdoor work stints. Last weekend when had a new helper scheduled to come work I was dismayed to step out into air so close it challenged breathing. The humidity level was at 88%! Thank goodness that the day's rains arrived with Josh, bringing welcome respite from the cloying heat. Sure we were drenched in no time, but the cool rain was a treat after so many days of sweat-soaked clothing accompanying all outdoor chores.

When Josh and I headed up toward the barn to find bucklings Stroganoff and Chilipepper, we found that the goats had found entertainment with their shelter. Rather than resting before fan-cooled stalls with the alpacas, our capricious caprines had busted into the storage area and taken to climbing box-mountains and causing box-slides. Although Leslie Lupine's twin bucklings weigh only around 40 pounds apiece, their cavorting contributed considerably to the damage, and so I was glad to be packing them off to another farm.

Chili, the older twin, has a bit more meat on his frame.

Even with meaty Midnight Hank as their sire, neither twin fared as well as Pamela Chrysanthemum's darling Stew--who bulked up so quickly we decided to keep him as breeding stock and changed his name to Studebaker. He's as solid as a truck and just as steady. For some reason the does favored him and allowed him to nurse indiscriminately while the twins had to battle for decent meals.

Now that they were ready to move on, I drove them down the street to another farm where they were stalled indoors--warm and dry--and surrounded by a fine herd of does much taller than either of the kids. True, they had been advertised as cabrito (or young goat, somewhat akin to veal), but when I last saw them they certainly appeared to be pets-in-the-making.

Studebaker, our young truck atop cloven hooves. Some buck!

Now that the bucklings are off of their dam, Leslie has become just another dairy doe. She's gentle and sweet, and stands fairly well for milking now--especially when she's offered mini-massages for her back and a pan of grain before her muzzle. It has been two days and she's no longer searching for her boys at every turn; she transitioned smoothly into her new role.

Two goats down. Now, if we can just sell two of the horses our pasture should stretch far enough for all of our animals without much supplementation.