Difficult Decisions

Welcome to Monday, dear reader. I hope you are fully recovered from the holiday weekend. We had a chance to get away as a family for a few days. I'll share more on that later. Coming home after a few days away allows us to see things with fresh eyes. Sometimes, seeing things with fresh eyes isn't always the picture that we want. As is par for the course this time of year, our barn seems very, very crowded. A barn that feels crowded is bad for several reasons. A crowded barn means too many goats. Too many goats stress the environment. A stressed environment means stressed goats, a high parasite load, and the potential for the spread of illness. After losing six goats to barber pole worm last August, two of which were my beloved original girls, and having three babies that took a lot of time and nursing back to health, I have learned my lesson. As much as I hate to do it, it is time to thin the herd. 

Currently, there are fourteen goats in milk. Fourteen goats to milk twice a day, every day, is too many. We have so much milk that both of our large chest deep freezers are filled to the rim. We need fresh milk for our moisturizer, but fourteen goats make an overabundance of milk. So much so that The Bibbed Wonder is dumping milk. Milking fourteen goats is too much work to dump the milk. It makes me sick to see it go to waste. However, without jumping through lengthy bureaucratic hoops, we cannot legally sell our milk. Believe it or not, we could get into more trouble for selling our fresh raw goat's milk than if we were selling drugs. That is mind-blowing.

 Before The Bean, we had a dairy farmer friend who milked a small herd of cows. On the sly, he permitted a select clientele to help themselves to his fresh raw milk for a minimal charge. His facility was spotless, his cows well cared for and loved. When I asked him if he worried about getting into trouble, his response was, "It's my milk, and it's your money. What we do isn't any of their damn business." We are not as rebellious as our dairy farmer friend. I would love to sell our milk, but the testing, regulations, paperwork, and costs aren't worth it. So, my chickens get an extra boost of calcium, yes, chickens love goat's milk. When The Bibbed Wonder had his pigs, they would happily drink the goat's milk. Alas, we no longer have pigs. We have very well-fed chickens. Eric is using the extra milk as a deer deterrent around the sunflower and corn fields. He loads the milk into a large sprayer attached to our side-by-side and goes around the farm every few days to spray it. I'm not sure if it works. It does not deter the groundhogs. It also makes everything smell like sour milk. It's enough to deter me from walking on very hot days. 

However, I digress. Thinning the herd is difficult but necessary for everyone's health and well-being. This year, I am fortunate. Two of my good friends want to expand their dairy herds. One of our friends is taking three goats. Two baby girls and Horns, aka Jessica. Jessica has to go. As much as I love her and think she is a wonderful girl, she is an absolute tyrant to the other goats. She singles out and picks on two adults. Plus, she is a menace to the little ones. She is sweet, gentle, and so friendly with us. If I sit down, Horns will approach me and gently rest her forehead against my forehead. We will sit like that for easily ten to fifteen minutes. That action is a sign of trust, love, and acceptance. That makes the decision to send Horns to a new home very difficult. However, our friend is literally five miles down the road from us, and he has a horned herd. I don't think Horns will be such a tyrant with a more leveled playing field. She is used to being our herd queen, but I think she will adjust. It also helps that our friend is taking her little girl, my bottle baby, whom I named Poppy. Poppy is such a sweetheart. I hate to see her go, but I know that Chloe, our friend's teenage daughter, will take excellent care of her. The girls will be well-loved. 

I am fortunate that a second friend is also expanding her diary herd. She is interested in two or three... or four (insert a wink) girls in milk. I know that my girls will spend the rest of their days with Abby and Dylan. They will be well loved, well cared for, and lack nothing. With several of them going together, they should adjust more easily and settle in nicely. Abby has Ace, our buck from last year. Acers is a happy boy, and he will also be a comfort to the girls once they move. Our little bucklings will go as a whole to our friend who wants them for brush control. Also, it is imminent that my geriatric girls will be gently laid to rest in the near future. However, I don't want to discuss this right now. So, our barn will be considerably less full in the next few weeks. The Bibbed Wonder will have far fewer girls to milk and less milk to dump. I know that ultimately, it will be a good thing. It's just difficult to see them go. Although it is far less difficult when I know they are going to good homes. Thankfully, we do not have to send anyone to the auction. I hate livestock auctions with a passion, and I will do everything in my power to not send any of my goats to auction.   

So, dear reader, this is the reality of being a goat farmer. As much as I would love for everyone to stay, grow old, and live out their lives with us, we have to look at the big picture and the overall well-being of everyone. We will be down to five or six adult goats. Plus, the little girls from this year. Of course, there is Sebastian, our buck. Lester, our one remaining Boher goat that I wrote my story about, and Teddy Bear, one of the babies we worked so hard to save last August. He is a sweetie. Lester and Teddy Bear will act as herd mates for Sebastian once we have to separate them. I love Lester, but he is a big, fat, pushy pain. I threaten to put him in the freezer at least once a week. He knows I am not serious and mocks me with his wry smile, and gives me a hefty push. He's a lot. It's a good thing I love him, and he has a book written about him. 

On this warm summer's day, stay safe, be smart, and make the difficult choices for the well-being of all. Hopefully, your options are good, and keep washing your hands.