Welcome Aster and Gertie!

Uh oh! More goats?!?

Yes!

This morning we climbed into the (almost) goat-proofed camper and made our way down to Massachusetts to pick up two more goats: Aster and Gertie. These girls came from the Hillman Farm in Colrain, MA, which is home to ~30 CAE-free, SFCP-tagged dairy goats. The girls rode fairly well in the van, but it soon became obvious which of the two personalities was dominant: Gertie's. While Aster tried to sleep and be a good goat, Gertie nipped at her ears and moved her from one side of the camper to the other. When she wasn't bossing Aster around, she was pawing at the floor to hoard the hay between her legs. What a nut! Despite Gertie's behavior, the ride went smoothly and the girls arrived home three hours after their departure.

When we opened the van's door, Gertie jumped out ready to go, while Aster sat passively chewing her cud. She didn't see a reason to get out, and it even took some coaxing with grain.

Aster needs a reason to get out of the van.

We let the girls out into the upper paddock, and, as per their breeder's suggestion, we moved Grant to the lower paddock so they could establish some social relationships without Grant's horns.

Gertie poses while Grant looks on from the lower paddock.

Aster poses with a mouth-full of hay.

These girls are exactly what we were looking for when Hops passed last weekend. They're 3 1/2 years old, primarily Alpine with a little Nubian, and neither one is bred. Aster is still milking, so we can dry her off or continue milking her, while Gertie is dried off. Both have freshened every year, and so we're giving them the year to take a break.

Now we're just keeping our fingers crossed that Grant will integrate without abusing the girls with his horns. Hopefully they (and we) will be able to figure out the goat social hierarchy without too many injuries, and our goat herd will be viable once again.

I think I even heard someone on the farm say they were looking forward to milking again. Maybe next year there will be kids, and that means milk, and milk means chevre! But at least we have the option and Grant has company.

Oh, Goats! I guess we just can't live without them!

Mama Hops

I came home this weekend to the news that Mama Hops had passed overnight. Unlike our previous goat losses this year, this one I was (somewhat) prepared for; Hops had shown signs of CAE since September. She began coughing and wheezing this fall, and her symptoms only progressed as we approached Thanksgiving. After a few vet visits and little progress, we decided last week we would call the vet and have her put down this week. And then last Thursday she ate a cup of grain for the first time in several days; things were looking up, at least for a day. Saturday night she began panting again, and Sunday morning she was gone. No matter how prepared I thought I was, it was still difficult to hear that the once feisty Hops was no more.

Hops came to our farm in June of 2008. It was our first experience with a real farm animal, and she knew it. She loved challenging us that first summer, chasing us around the field, rearing up when we'd come into the field, even tossing a few guests off their feet. She was strong and dominant and, quite frankly, a big pain.

Hops - Summer 2008

We had her bred that first fall, and in April we had our first experience with animal birthing. For a whole week prior to her freshening (giving birth) I was a nervous wreck. We even camped out in the barn one night in hopes we might be present for the birth. I waited and waited, and every morning there was still just Hops.

One week before freshening (3/29/09).

And then, one night, after about two days of laying down and grunting, I saw the first real signs of labor. She was up and down, pushing and grunting, for about two hours before I finally saw any real progress: a hoof and a nose. She pushed and pushed and then out came a head, and only a head. The poor kid had one hoof back and was stuck! As I waited nervously, not knowing what I to do to help pull him out, she strained and pushed for a good 30 minutes before he was finally out. About an hour later she began the process again, and within the hour she had two more wet, wobbly kids on the ground. Triplets!

Penny, Sherman, and Grant (4/8/09)

Hops was a pretty attentive mother, and after freshening she mellowed a bit.

Hops nursing Sherman and Grant (4/09)

The triplets enjoy the spring sunshine.

After freshening she was milked twice a day for 11 months. A heavy producer, she gave us a gallon of milk a day during her peak production, which we turned into chevre, mozzarella, feta, ricotta, and the like (-avoid goat butter!). We made chowders and custards, and we even attempted ice cream. The last bit of cheese still sits in our freezer, waiting to conjure memories of our milking past.

While I must admit there were occasions when we thought life would be simpler without having to deal with Hops, I don't regret a day of tussling, dragging, or chasing. She was smart and challenging, but she had personality. She taught us patience and persistence and how to milk. She loved bananas and apples and a good scratch on her neck. And you knew she was happy when she smiled.

Over the past few months, as her illness progressed, Hops still smiled.