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!

What Goes Around Comes Around

Geese, geese, geese. We have mean geese here at P&CW Organic Farm. All of the goats and puppies have been bullied by the geese at one time or another. The chickens and guinea hen are used to being chased away from any feed laid out for them so that the geese can guzzle it down. Even those of us who are larger animals have been hissed at quite vehemently. Now, that has changed.

Some weeks back the geese left the home pasture enclosure, I think they were being chased by the dogs and felt unsafe. While I do like coming out of the house to be greeted by honking geese, I very much dislike stepping out onto the mat--or even the boot scraper--to find that some goose has left a fresh, green calling card. And when the upper portion of the driveway began to look like I needed to tend to it with the doggie pooper-scooper, well, I sent the geese back into the pasture.

Shortly thereafter I had the pleasure of watching JoJo being subjected to curious Spencer's all-over inspection. Alpacas are curious creatures, and Spencer likes to check out any goats or dogs or people who enter his territory. Whiskey, the larger, grey-and-white fainting goat, now stands most resignedly for Spencer's inspections. Oddly, though, JoJo and LaLa first chose to flee the young alpaca's attentions--only to find themselves the target of a happily chasing romp. Eventually JoJo thought to sit still and acquiesce. Spencer did not hurt the goose, unless perhaps geese are prideful, and he did ascertain what a goose smells and tastes like from neck to tail.

What goes around comes around. Those mean geese had it coming.

Love & Excitement in the Air

As the cooler temperatures and brisk winds of autumn arrive, excitement fills the air. I feel more energized and chores around the farm become easier. The goats and alpacas, and the horses and puppies are frisky—bound to break into running, jumping, dancing fits any moment.

Heading down for the mail yesterday, I heard the thunder of hoof beats behind me as the goat girls dashed together as a herd, following my progress until I turned to watch them. Faced by me, they quickly broke out into playful groups; indeed, although head-butting works best with just two participants, I saw them configure into rippling huddles where many animals faced a center spot and all were ready to butt heads.

The alpacas are extremely playful these days. They will all chase each other around the pasture, or chase whoever is handy. I’ve seen the cria Spencer romping lightly after BullyBob. The poor ol’ goat was running full out; he is used to being the bully, not being bullied. With his twisted horns and stinky yellow-brown face, he approached me for help and I became his safety zone. Bully may not like being chased, but he sure can chase when a female goat hangs by the fence.

Today it was Denise the goat who was flirting the most through the fence. Come dinnertime I brought her into the boys’ area and tried to set up a dinner date for her with Whiskey. BullyBob, of course, was hot on the doe’s heels, but I pulled him up short before he could enter her stall. Denise wound up spending dinnertime with three of our fainter boys: Whiskey, little Joshua, and the junior horndog Brad Pitt.

Molly the momma dog appears to be in heat again as well. With nine fast-growing puppies on her heels, and her weight down after momma-ing so many pups, we are doing all that we can to keep Luther the papa dog away from Miss Molly. The puppies flow between both parents, and spend a good deal of time tailing us around the farm, and chasing the geese and chickens with enthusiasm.

Even little Spencer is feeling the fever of love. In addition to his exuberant romping, I’m sensing that he’s coming of age and experiencing his first sexual awakening.This means reconfiguring the alpacas tomorrow morning. I don’t think it is as simple as moving Spencer in with the boys because he’d then be a prime target for the four others to chase. Hopefully we can divide the home pasture tomorrow, and then only rotate the boys into and out of their stall in shifts, while giving the gals the run of the place 24/7.

Thank goodness we have no male horses on the property! We enjoy watching the mares romp around their respective areas, running, bucking, and kicking when the autumn breezes tickle them into action. And Janet, the filly, is becoming much more vocal; her little high-pitched whinny echoes out from their pasture numerous times a day.

I love the fall, and it appears that I’m in good company. So kick up your heels and join us!

Welcome Joshua!

On Sunday afternoon, after feeding and bedding down the critters, I drove back to the pretty family farm in Mt. Juliet from which we bought FiFi Mae to pick up a little fainter buckling. Why another buck? Isn’t one BullyBob in rut enough for the farm? Yes, but the two fainter bucks we have—Whiskey and Raymond—are both Gwen’s offspring. To whom can we breed Gwen when the time comes? Sure, the little buckling I picked up won’t be ready to be a sire this fall, will he? Ah, according to The Goat Handbook , written by U. Jaudas and S. Mobini, DVM, and published by Barron’s, goats reach sexual maturity within about five months, so that a spring kid will be ready to breed in the fall. Hmm, that’s good news. But wait! This little guy appears to be polled, a.k.a., his head is as hard as a brick (figuratively speaking) but he has no horns. The book states that hornlessness is related to fertility, with hornless goats often having problems with infertility. Oops! Well, time will tell. Anyway, I cannot imagine that this little guy will be ready to breed a full grown doe like Gwen as early as this fall. In which case, we’re still without a fainter buck for Gwen.

Back to Sunday, I again enjoyed the gorgeous drive over to the farm in Mt. Juliet. The winding roadway and rolling landscape make keeping my eyes on the road a challenge. I saw FiFi Mae’s family, her mom and her older sister, and then our newest addition appeared. They called him Bull but I was told he didn’t know his name, unlike FiFi Mae, so it would be easy to change it. That’s good, I replied, for we already have a BullyBob in the buck pen. Bull was much quieter than FiFi Mae and hardly resisted at all when he was loaded into the box in the truck’s bed. His face is the same lovely dark chocolate brown that FiFi Mae has, but his body is a lighter brown with white splotches, rather like Cocoa. He’s quite the handsome little guy.

Driving home I considered names and came up with Joshua. The Joshua in my life is a handsome young man who is sociable and good with the ladies, just as we want this little buckling to be, plus the human Joshua is dear to our hearts. The other names I considered didn’t seem as suitable, so Joshua was named. And, the name fit!

At home I slid the truck through the mud until the tailgate was close to the pen entrance. (FiFi Mae had proved to be a handful when I unloaded her some yards distant and I wasn’t about to repeat that struggle.) Young Joshua, though, was calm and steady. He cautiously sniffed at the back of my hand then seemed to decide that I was trustworthy (very unlike the fractious FiFi Mae). He allowed me to lift him from the crate and place him in the truck bed, where he stood quietly while I climbed out then opened the tailgate. Once in the pen he immediately sought out the other males and made friends. Poor FiFi Mae had had to endure a couple of days of being hazed by the herd, but not this guy. He just sailed in and claimed his position in the herd.

Perhaps I’m projecting, but I do believe Joshua and Whiskey have a connection. After being at the bottom of the pecking order for so long, Whiskey finally has a subordinate, and he welcomed Joshua into the fold without a threat.

A bit later when the geese pushed out from their portion of the round pen and began some serious nipping of ears (that’s JoJo), the battery in my camera quit, so again it’s my word against JoJo’s, but I tell you he’s quite the bully