Jennifer's Brood

Nigerian Dwarf doe Jennifer has her hands full with her newest litter. L-R: Logan, Kendall, & Molly.

Way to go, Jennifer! She waited until Thanksgiving morning to deliver a trio of beautiful little doelings. Her kids have the coloring of her other Nigerian Dwarf kids; no Fainter crosses here.

Logan's coloring is reminiscent of her sire's. (Logan is the gray gal in back.)

Their names were obvious to me. The firstborn, largest, and strongest had to be Logan; she's silvery gray like an airplane. Her coloring revealed that the sire of this brood was neither Brad Pitt (no tan-and-white pinto kids), nor the ubiquitous BullyBob. (At least I knew enough to keep BullyBob away from the does last spring.) Although Sting's black and gray patches remind me of a harlequin and Logan's triangles of color are more understated, their coloring is definitely of the same gene pool. We're excited to have Logan joining our Nigerian Dwarf herd.

Newborn Molly (aka MollyToo) is still a bit unsteady on her feet.

The second born doeling, a medium-size gal with Gateway or cow-like black-and-white coloring resembles Jennifer's second born from her last litter--Todd. This little goat, then, is named Molly. Well, since we already have a guardian dog named Molly, the goat kid is surreptitiously called MollyToo. Anyway, MollyToo--who resembles her 3/4ths brother Todd--is the namesake of another Molly, the second born daughter of parents named Jennifer and Todd. Welcome MollyToo!

Kendall settles in for a well-earned nap.

The last born doeling is an attractive brown with coloring similar to her dam's and reminiscent of Jennifer's firstborn from her last litter--Tony. To this day, Tony is probably the prettiest, flashiest kid of the winter/spring 2010 births. This little gal is sharp--if she were human she might be bound for MIT--and somehow the name Kendall just fits.

We are thrilled to have Jennifer's new litter here on the farm! Welcome, kids!

How to Eat an Egg

Biscuit the innocent. "Who me? What egg?"

This afternoon Mr. Biscuit showed me how to thoroughly enjoy eating an egg. It all started when I collected eggs from the barn into a bucket, set the bucket outside on the milking stand, and then forgot about it. Biscuit respected my little collection for some time; I know because I passed the bucket several times and was reminded, "Oh! I've gotta take those down to the house!" but didn't. In time, though, his canine mind considered the issue--I'm sure--decided that food dished out onto the milking stand is usually for animals (if not precisely dogs), and that he thus had a right to it.

"Oh! That egg. Hmmm."

By the time I noticed him carefully guarding a treasure on the hillside below the shop-in-progress, the egg bucket only held one egg--not five. True, the egg he held was intact; however, it had been thoroughly subjected to dog slime and since eggshells are porous...well, you get the idea. I didn't want dog slime with breakfast. So I stopped to watch him.

"This bears investigation."

At first he was cautious, looking from his egg to me to his egg to me to his egg. Was she (I) going to try to take it? Would he be able to keep his prize? After a couple of minutes he relaxed. Yup, that silly woman was just watching--even snapping pictures--and totally missing out on the goodness of egg.

He may be big, but Biscuit knows to be gentle with eggs.

He rolled the egg about between his paws, possibly considering the best angle from which to attack it. Then he picked it up and set it down several times. The rolling, moving, and mouthing was done with care and respect. This egg was decidedly a prize.

Although I expected him to chow it down, Biscuit licked delicately, savoring the flavor.

Finally I noticed that he had begun to lick: he'd pierced the shell and was tasting the runny egg. As big as his tongue was, the job took time: he was savoring the meal. I got bored and turned back to work, only to encounter an intact egg on the driveway. Already coated with dog slime, the egg was now conveniently camouflaged with crushed gravel.  What choice did I have but to put it into his dish?

"Mmm, mmm. Good to the last drop!"

Thumbelina's Surprise

Thumbelina with her brand new kids--a surprise I was not expecting.

This morning after chores, as I was dashing off the farm to begin a very hectic day, a thin cry sounded from the home pasture before I could reach my car. For about two days now, Thumbelina had been standing separate from the herd giving me a studied look that I did not understand. True, she'd been separated from her cohorts--Cocoa and Jennifer--but they'd moved into the maternity suite and I had not detected a full udder or other signs of pregnancy in Thumbelina. My error. Alerted by the cry, I looked up to see Thumbelina flanked by newborn twins who'd unfortunately been delivered in the dusty home pasture.

Kids delivered in the dusty home pasture. What a mess!

Scooping up the kids and grabbing Thumbelina by a horn, I ushered the new family into the maternity suite. After determining that, like Cocoa's litter, the firstborn was a buckling who bore a strong resemblance to Brad Pitt, and the last-born was a doeling. The cream-colored doeling, having been delivered wet onto the dust, was a muddy mess. I would have liked to stay and clean her up, but the job went to Thumbelina because I had to dash.

Being born is hard work! Kids nap to replenish their energy.

Chalk up two litters to Brad this fall. When I noticed Brad and his sidekick Sting actively attending to the pastured does last spring, I hurried to move them; obviously I should have acted sooner. These kids are Nigerian Dwarf x Tennessee Fainter crosses--all with the dwarfs' signature blue eyes. It will be interesting to see how they'll turn out. Will they exhibit myotonic traits any time soon? How large will they grow? Here on the farm, we'll be watching their progress.

Cocoa's Coup

Cocoa with her new kids.

We've been watching two Nigerian Dwarf does, Jennifer and Cocoa, for over a week now--trying to gauge when they'll kid. Yesterday I kept both does indoors, in the maternity stall with doors open to the air, not leaving them to roam. After the recent poultry losses to young dogs, I'm not ready to trust Biscuit with brand-new kids roaming free in the woods anytime soon.

I've been expecting Jennifer to kid first because she's gotten so big, but then again she just kept getting bigger for weeks the last time she kidded. When they were leaving the barn two mornings ago, Cocoa's bag looked full enough to accommodate new kids so I should not have been surprised to find her with kids on the ground last evening.

Cocoa's doeling is less robust than the senior twin.

Although I expected her to deliver a big singleton, as she has done twice before now, she surprised us with twins this time. The firstborn, a little buckling, is a pretty yellowy-tan and white--with wattles and blue eyes. He's strong and sure of himself, and greedy--everything a healthy kid needs to survive. The doeling is black-and-white, considerably smaller and weaker than her big brother. She has blue eyes and wattles, too, but her wattles are placed higher than I've seen before--one of these pieces of "goat jewelry" is actually attached at the base of her ear, much like an earring. The other one is lower down, but still closer to the ear than any I've seen before this.

Doe and her offspring both display "goat jewelry" or wattles.

Names are in the offing; however, we'll wait a day or two to be sure both kids will make it before making any definitive decisions.

Midnight Hank: On the Job

Young Midnight Hank, dwarfed by the hay rack from which he feeds.

Our new buck, now answering to Midnight Hank, takes his duties very seriously. The larger dairy does have an attentive and willing partner to pending insemination sniffing about their heels and tails each evening. During the day when they wander the grounds, Midnight Hank remains pastured with the female alpacas where his presence inspires (teases?) the smaller does just across the fence.

Perhaps one day young Hank will choose to pull his feed from above the rack, but not yet.

What I find amusing, though, is the contrast of Hank's size against the full-grown dairy does. He's little more than a snippet of his future self, prancing around atop a buck's hooves. Even so, he takes his position seriously. He is attentive to "his" does, checking frequently to see if the time is right. Even though he's a little guy, he already knows to reserve his strength for the most opportune moments.

Nature has made animals so much smarter than us humans. They time breeding to coincide with ovulation, no basal temperature thermometers or ovulation predictor kits from Walgreens need apply here.