Mornings On The Farm

Sometimes the most interesting things happen during the day when we are doing the morning milking. Now, admittedly, I am not a morning person. My body would prefer staying up to the wee hours of the morning as opposed to getting up with the birds. Yet I can appreciate the utility of getting an early start on the morning chores around the farm, especially during the hottest months of the year. Rising at the break of dawn to milk means getting all the animals fed and watered before the great fiery orb we rotate around has a chance to scorch the very earth we inhabit.

Those early hours are also a window into the natural world that surrounds us, and gives us a chance to connect with it on a deeper level, especially if we are open to it. One recent morning, we headed out into the pasture where the milking does were grazing down the irrigation ditch (a great way to deal with ditch management that is low-impact and requires no heavy equipment). As we walked with the two dogs and chatted, a motion at the corner of the eyes stopped us both in our tracks. Three beautiful mule deer bucks in velvet were grazing about 50 yards away from us, on the other side of the goats. We stopped in our tracks, silent, as we watched them notice our presence. Two decided to trot across the pasture and a fence, and hide in the trees. The third took our measure, sized up the dogs and does, and went back to grazing. While it would have been great to watch them graze, we had to milk, so on we went with our task. The entire time we milked the girls, the bucks grazed; the two that had previously run returned once they determined we were not a threat. A meadowlark serenaded us as we worked and the deer grazed.

It was a magical setting, and an awesome way to start the morning. I was wishing I had brought my camera so I could capture the moment, but I would have to carry it with me everywhere to memorialize all the little moments we experience on a daily basis. And I am admittedly a little lazy in that regard; as well as not wanting to bust the technology while wrestling a pig or goat, or chasing down some cows. Maybe I will have to work on that, as well as other things in my life. I enjoy those mental pictures, and there are some I would love to share in a single image. In the end,I may not be a morning person, but I can certainly appreciate the beauty of the day.

My Living Room is a Nursery

We have been very busy here at the farm, for the last month or so. Since I can't remember the last post I made, and I am admittedly too lazy to look it up, I will recap here. We started out with with three pigs (two gilts and a boar) that were in pig (such a funny term for being pregnant!), due to farrow any day. We had six goats, all does, only two of which were in milk. A few heritage turkeys, eight ducks, and a small (25-30) flock of chickens. We have expanded. And not in our waistlines either.

That being said, back to the title. Why on earth is my living room a nursery? Well...

First we had our two gilts/sows farrow. Each had nine wiggly little piglets, and they shared the same paddock during the entire process. All was going well, with mama #2 sharing the job of milk bar for the first little piglets. We thought it was an awesome thing for them to be sharing the job of raising the little ones all together. At least until the second farrow which happened about three weeks later. Since Mama #2 was already nursing babies from Mama #1, she wasn't as focused on nursing her own offspring, or protecting them from the larger piglets. The younger ones ended up suffering s lot of cuts to the head, with some injuries down to the bone. They were also not thriving as well as they should have, since the older ones were pushing them out of the way. So we had to take action. After much mulling over, we decided to remove the smallest ones from their mama and raise them on bottles. It was a risky gambit, since it is generally advised to remove the sow from the piglets when they are weaned. They were also only a few days old, so had a severely diminished chance of survival.

We went in with a plan. We would sneak in after the morning feeding to surround the moms and older babies with a hog panel fence around their favorite feeding tree (a story for later). We would feed them to keep them all distracted, and hopefully swoop in and remove all the babies as fast as possible before the moms got cranky. If you have ever been around pigs, you know why we would want to be fast. For those of you who have never witnessed a cranky mama sow, imagine a pissed off Sherman tank racing towards you hell-bent on protecting its offspring. A sight to make anyone a little nervous to be sure.

For all the planning we did, the act of removing the piglets went remarkably smoothly. Moms were distracted by food, babies were swept into a Rubbermaid tub with hardly an incident, and we trooped off proud of ourselves for a job well done. The next dilemma was to make sure they were well fed and would survive the next few critical weeks of development. For that, we needed enough goat milk, the universal milk replacer for mammals.

We already had two does in milk, but the milk they were producing was not going to be enough. I did some price comparisons on artificial milk replacer (sow milk replacer as well as goat milk replacer), and found it would be FAR cheaper just to buy another doe in milk than to buy the artificial replacer. So the search ensued. We ended up finding one in our price range that was pregnant; the first one we were shown had a large lump in her udder that we were not prepared to try and treat. We drove her home, and she ended up birthing a buckling in the back of the truck in a parking lot. Not at all what we expected! Her udder was massively congested, and she wasn't letting the baby nurse, so we ended up having to remove him too so he would have a better chance of survival. At this point, we had a baby goat as well as nine little piggies in our living room.

Over the next few weeks, we realized that we would need more milk for all the pigs, as we wanted to supplement the older piglets so they would be more socialized as well as having a better diet. Milk-fed pork. Yum! The search began anew. As the story goes, the person we bought the pregnant doe from decided to divest himself of almost all his goats, so we went to pick up another. We bought the one he showed us, and he threw in her two kids for free. He also had another doe (the original one we looked at with the lump in her udder) he would sell us for just a little more, and he would throw in HER kids as well. Yikes! We went out to buy one goat, and we came back with SIX!!

In the end, we picked up ANOTHER doe (and her kid who turns out to be fairly wild) so we could have enough for ALL the piglets and ALL the kids as well. I am hoping to wean the goats within the next few weeks so we can either freeze milk for the piglets as they grow or to sell as Goat Shares.

We also picked up some Large Fowl Cochin chicks who are also currently calling an old TV box home in our living room. They are good for eggs and meat, and have little feathered feet. Squee! I will try to get some good photos of them eventually. No promises, though.

What do I want next? A milk cow. Really. I swear, my husband and my son could both almost fully exist off of just a raw milk diet if given the choice. While we do have a source for some raw cows milk, we really just need to save up our pennies or find someone to help invest in our little enterprise so we can have our own milk cow. I never thought I would see the day when I would hear myself say that! It is amazing what happens in such a short span of time, when different opportunities present themselves. Some Guinea hens or keets would be nice too. While I am dreaming out loud, 200+ private acres in the mountains with pasture and irrigation or riverfront for our own would be awesome too...

Just Saying....

An Update on Rune

So I thought now would be a good time to give an update on Rune, our little goat who broke her leg. It has been three weeks so far, and she seems to be doing just fine. Fine enough that we decided to add a little protective covering to the splint she has on (because of the snow and mud), and let her go back to the herd.

It all seemed to go well, being re-introduced to Alice and Rain (her twin sister), as well as meeting two out of three of the new does. The smallest one was in the garage/infirmiry we set up for her for about 2 days while she recovered from the stress of moving, etc.

Doesn't she look great?

That's Not A Designer Handbag, It's My Goat!

If there is one thing that this last year has taught me, is that opportunities come in unexpected places. Had someone told me where I would be at in my life today, I would have laughed myself silly. However, as much as I have realized that I can be a control freak over certain aspects of my life, I have come to recognize that there are times I simply need to let go and see where this path takes us.

Why am I bringing this up now? Well, my dearest husband has been thinking about trying to get a young cow or some pigs for a little while now. We have looked into several breeds (mainly heritage breeds, as this fits into our life and philosophy the best) and have tried to find locally based breeders if possible.  While we are still somewhat flexible on the cattle breed, he has his heart set on getting some Large Black Hogs. Yep, that is actually the name of the breed (so descriptive the English are!! Just kidding; I think the pigs are pretty handsome and their name obviously fits them), and they are pretty rare. so rare, in fact, that I believe one little piglet will probably run at least $300. Just for one, never mind several to try to start our own little colony with.

So with dreams of expensive ham in mind, he had me put an ad out asking people for their unwanted livestock for our family to raise. It wasn't specific, but he was hoping for a cow, or a pig or something of that ilk. Never did it even occur to us we would get the exact animal we really didn't want. Little goats. I don't mean baby goats, but miniature milk goats, Dwarf Nigerian Goats to be specific. Why on earth would anyone want a tiny milking goat??

Apparently, quite a few people are into keeping them. They apparently make good pets (goats in the house, are our serious?? I mean, they are literally eating and pooping machines!). Quite a few people actually prefer them because of their small size. After all, a herd is cheaper to feed and they might be easier for a novice to deal with, especially if big animals seem too scary. And people seem quite proud of the little buggers.

When we got our first goats, we looked at all the books, and decided that of all the breeds, the last ones we wanted were the miniature ones. Why? I guess for us it came down to personal preference; the larger breeds give more milk, and if we were going to have a herd of milk goats, we might as well have full-sized ones!

So here we are suddenly, with several more goats. Our little herd has suddenly doubled in numbers, though not in size. Some of these fellows (we now have 4 new bucks!) are truly tiny, and can not only walk under Splint, our largest wether, but under Panas our almost yearling Nubian as well. I never thought I would see the day. Aside from getting some rather small goats, they seem to have come to us with some issues as well. All have horns (yes, dammit, HORNS AGAIN!) that are delaminating which is a good indication of being effectively malnourished. And they are all bloated (a potentially life threatening condition for goats). So now we not only have to help them get better, but figure out what their optimal feed really is and hope that they can rebound from it. Plus, they all have horns (of course! Go figure. Better get the coping saw out again), and the hoofs on a few of them are so bad i'll bet they haven't felt the earth in a LONG while.

Thing us, after spending a little time with them, I can sorta see the appeal of these little Nigerian goats. They can be kinda cute. They look like miniature mountain goats. Maybe we can let the children breed them and use the proceeds to get a few Large Black Hogs. Just thinking of the possibilities here.

Never throw anything away

I admit it, I am a pack rat. I come from a long line of pack rats, as does my husband. It is something that often frustrates us, as we have a lot of "stuff" that we are trying to organize without anywhere to put it. We struggle with trying to decide when we should get rid of something, especially since when we do, we often end up needing it for a project weeks or months later on. It is especially difficult because we intend to build our own home, so we need a certain amount of stuff for it. Much is in the nature of building supplies (wood, countertops, metal, etc.) that will be useful when we start building, but can really get in the way when there is no easy place to store it. We also try to repurpose and recycle materials as often as possible, finding creative ways to resolve problems. Like when we needed to build a pen and shelter for our first goats with just what was lying around on the property (we spent about $4 total on clips for the gate. That is it); the Goatagon was the product of our creativity.

Yesterday I was once again thankful that we and my in-laws have this tendency to keep items we may need in the future. Early in the morning during my husbands routine of feeding and watering the goats, one of the little ones (Her name is Rune) got her back leg stuck in the fence of the goat pen and broke it. Hubby was very upset and came to get me inside, where I was working on the goat milk and breakfast preparations. We checked it out, and it was indeed broken cleanly between the hock and the knee along the cannon bone. 

Neither of us had ever dealt with something like this before, but since I remembered reading a few months prior about goats and broken bones (and in light of our recent successful experiences with our goofy dog), I felt confident that we could deal with it ourselves.

We quickly grabbed some thin scrap wood from the garage/shop, and some self-adhesive bandage from my mother-in-laws vast stores of random medical supplies (she was a nurse until she retired) and set about making a splint to keep her leg together while we figured out if there was another way to keep it stable. The way it worked out, Hubby realigned the bones and wrapped the splint while I held the goat and kept her stable and helped keep the wood from moving too much. It seemed pretty easy to wrap, and she didn't complain much while we did it. In fact, she happily munched a little grain we set out without so much as a peep. Of course, it was too easy. After setting her back in the pen with her newly stabilized leg, we set about our own breakfast and research on goats and broken bones.

My father-in-law, in his infinite wisdom (insert heavy sarcasm here) claimed that you couldn't put a cast on a goats leg, and we should just splint it (using the materials we already did, only he treated it as his original idea). During our research we found that you can either cast or splint a broken leg, and it should heal just fine after the 4-6 weeks it takes for a bone to knit. We both thought that a cast would be the way to go, but after spending a few hours calling around the various medical supply places in the nearest town we weren't able to locate any plaster cast material. Weird. The ironic thing is that I have several rolls of the stuff back at our home since that is what I have used to make plaster casts of peoples faces for my artwork.

So after also calling a vet (who was currently being snowed in, in the next state over and couldn't drive the hour here to check on our little doe), we decided that we needed to replace the splint with a studier one. We also realized that she would do better in an "isolation" ward so that Alice wouldn't act like a normal goat and head butt her or push her around while she is healing. So we gathered our supplies again, plus some metal splint material normally used for fingers (and an ideal size for an almost yearling doe) and we set about to re-splint her leg. It wasn't as easy this time around. I think the leg was starting swell more, so she was pretty unhappy with having the bones realigned and splinted again (and was rather vocal about it). We also had our daughter take photos (hence the occasional finger in the way and viewpoint) since I had to pin down the doe so her leg could be worked on by my wonderful husband. I am sure it was quite the scene, with us doing the mending while also having to answer her questions, keep Rune calm, make sure our son was staying out of the way, while handing over the necessary supplies as they were needed. We ended up putting her in a large dog kennel (another very useful item we rescued from a neighbors trash) in the garage where we can keep her warm, dry, and in a small confined area for her recovery. Hopefully we can set her out in a few weeks once it starts healing, but we will have to play it by ear and see how it goes.

I suppose there are several lessons to be found here, if you are the sort to look for them. Always be prepared (luckily my husband is a former Boy Scout, and a creative man to boot) would be an important one. He says this last year has been all about learning patience and a certain amount of veterinary medicine, which I would not argue with at all!! Prepare for the worst but expect the best; I feel is one that is always good to keep in mind. And to bring us back full circle, dear readers: Never throw anything away. You never know when you may need it to fix a goats' broken leg.

Meet Maude

Meet Maude. She is a Nubian Cross Goat. She and her buddy Alice were our first foray into the world of dairy goats. Yet again, something we talked about for years but had no definitive plans for starting into. Yet the opportunity came along to adopt them. So we suddenly have two goats. Now, a brief digression; Alice, Maude's companion, is about the most patient goat on the planet. Especially for a couple of beginners like us. Sweet too. We were lucky, since she was in need of being milked daily when we got her. Maude, however, was in need of being as they say "freshened", or bred so she would produce milk again. Welcome to the world of mammals; you don't get milk without kids. We figured we would keep an eye out for a boyfriend for Miss Maude, which is another story to tell. Anyhow. Maude came to us as a more aloof goat. According to her last owners, she was running loose with a herd (not exactly feral, but certainly not tame or super friendly). She would hang out nearby and maybe sniff your hand, but that was as far as her friendliness went, as opposed to Alice who would happily be a house goat if she could.

Now after being around our crazy family for a few days, Maude decided that hubby gave really good neck rubs (did I mention he is a professional massage therapist? Probably not). So she was much friendlier. Oh, and she has horns. Now, another brief digression here on goats and horns. Goats, both male and female are born with them except for some that are genetically born without, these are called polled. Now Alice was disbudded (this is the term used when a goats horns are removed) as a baby. Most goats, especially those as family pets or as part of a dairy herd have their horns removed. Reasons vary but we felt, as Maudes' previous owners did, that if goats were born with horns, they should keep them and removing the horns at birth was cruel. Well, the ability to grow them at least. Anyways, Alice does not have horns. Maude does.

Eventually (a few weeks later) another pair of goats came our way. Connie, a young female who was never bred and Splint Eastwood, a wether (castrated male). When we introduced them, Alice made it clear in her goatish way that she was the queen bee of this herd by head butting the others until they agreed. Maude backed her up as the brawn beside Alice's brain. All went well for a few days, until Miss Maude realized that if she was going to do all the dirty work of cracking skulls with her horns (what hornless goat in their right mind would argue?), she may as well get the glory of being queen too! Now Alice being the sweet girl she is, seems willing to be some sort of co-monarch with her pal. But in Maude's mind, Maude is queen. Unfortunately for the other goats, she is a really rude and bitchy queen who rules with an iron hoof as it were. Which was not too terrible until we found a young buck and two more little does for our new herd. Problem was, these new animals are still young at 8 months old and small compared to their eventual adult size.

To finally get to the point of this post, people will do all sorts of crazy things to protect their animals. We decided it was in everyone's best interest to find a way to dull Maudes' use of her horns. Why? We really don't want her hurting or killing the little ones as she tries to tell them in her heavy-handed fashion that she is boss. We really didn't want to rehome or sell Maude, as she would most likely become someone's dinner and Alice would lose her lifelong companion. Plus, Maude is generally a really pleasant goat except when she gets a burr up her behind and wants to remind everyone of her status.

Now, most vets won't de-horn an adult animal as it takes specialized knowledge (the horn is living and has its own blood supply after all). Online resources basically say if you are getting a goat, make sure it doesn't have horns (not an option for us at this point). So we had to get creative about her use of those dreaded horns. After some internet research, hubby felt it would be best to cut the tips off where there is no blood supply and epoxy some balls to the remaining horns (still at about 7" long) to help dull the heavy blows she deals. What follows is what we did to help the rest of the herd.... I hope you enjoy he show, and for now the decorations that our much more festive goat is wearing are completely removable (i.e. no epoxy). And while I used to feel that disbudding was cruel, I now realize that in certain situations it can be more cruel to let the horns remain. Especially if it might mean the safety of the rest of your herd...

 Using a coping saw to trim the horn tips.

 Horns trimmed down.

Rounding the edges with a rasp.

Meet Maude, our newly particolor goat.