Last night after work we drove back out to Rusty's farm to look at baby goats. We will be getting three more to complete the herd and we wanted to look around to pick out some guys.
He was polite - but I could sense an air of caution, especially since we had lost three babies over the course of the last month and a half. He asked me a lot of questions - and I asked him a lot of things too. It was a chance for both of us to see that the other was okay - and that no harm was done intentionally - that things with our boys just happened badly.
He has dozens of babies, many of whom are spoken for since they are pedigreed and show quality animals. We picked out a golden one who looked like Norbert, then a pair of twins who have roan backsides and dark chocolate brown head and shoulders, like Paul. Odds are they will be called John and George.
They were born the end of September - so they are not quite a month old yet - and they are not weaned. I was so surprised at how large they were - and it drove home to me how very small the boys were - too small to be away from their mom, I think. To avoid anymore trauma - we will be taking them when they are two months old right before Thanksgiving. It was a good visit - and included a moment where I got to see the boy's mother, and tell her I was so sad about her kids.
This weekend I am starting to built a bigger shelter and increasing the grazing area and the dream seems back on track.
Oh yea, and Ringo slept inside, yet again, wrapped in a fleece blanket. He is doing great and drank the milk greedily both last night and this morning - also quite a change from before.
1 comment:
. . . and right now, he's happily chewing grass and alfalfa pellets in the backyard. You did good, Mama.
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