Ramona

When I first planned on getting goats I did research on a few breeds and planned on getting Nubian goats. I loved their big floppy ears, roman noses, and sometimes even spots. However, when it came time to actually get goats, Nubians for a reasonable price were pretty scarce. Thus, Fern and Amos of unknown origins arrived on the farm instead. After having Fern and Amos for a couple months I started thinking about Nubians again. It seemed like one more goat would round out the little herd nicely, and I couldn't get the idea of having a little, spotted Nubian doeling out of my head.

I looked on craigslist for several weeks without any luck, and on a whim changed the search to Kansas City. There was an ad for a couple doelings out of a spotted buck. I emailed the person, and she responded that they did have a little spotted doeling they were selling. Attached to the email was this picture:

I was sold. She looked exactly like what I was picturing: long floppy ears and covered in “moonspots”. Her name was Ramona Pinto. She had been bottled raised by the woman’s five children since birth. In fact, Ramona frequently slept in her daughter's bed. The woman explained that when Ramona was born she was very small, and refused to drink from her mother, so they had bottled raised her while her siblings stayed on their mom. She said that they would have liked to keep her, as she was probably the
sweetest goat they had ever raised, but they were selling all of the goat kids this year to raise money for an international adoption. Now I really couldn’t say no!

I met them near the end of April to pick up Ramona. She was tiny for her age and very sweet. Ha, made my other goats seem very badly behaved! It was a little tricky at first. She much preferred being around humans than the other goats. If she saw me outside she would cry and then sneak out of the fence, but gradually she became more comfortable with the other goats and less attached to me. Although she still liked to come in the house at every opportunity for the first couple of weeks. It was kind of fun to have a little goat chewing her cud under the table while eating dinner, and she would even run back outside to go pee.

I realized that part of Ramona’s sweetness may be that she is a little simple minded. I don’t think she is going to win any goat IQ contests, but she sure is a fun little goat to have around.

The Kids

Ever since I moved into my house I knew that I wanted some kind of livestock for my pasture. However, the pasture is too small to sustain a large animal, so goats seemed like the best option. Early this spring I fulfilled that dream and got two little goats.

I had talked about this idea with my friend Stephanie in the beginning of the year and she enthusiastically asked if she could help out.  She grew up in a city, but has always loved animals and was so excited to have the opportunity to participate in a little farm animal raising.  We planned and research several opportunities, and ended up driving an hour and half in mid-February to pick up a couple “rescue” bottle babies. Oh boy, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into! 

When we arrived at the little backwoods farm to pick up the goats we were met by an interesting lady who really loves her animals (perhaps a little too much).  She had driven up to Wisconsin a week earlier to rescue a dozen culled baby goats from a goat dairy. These kids were of mostly unknown breeds, and all males except for one female. We ended up getting the little female, but had a difficult time choosing which male to take home. Finally we both agreed on a little grayish male with floppy ears who was friendly, but not too pushy.  At this point the goats where probably about 10 days old.  Admittedly the kids seemed a little weak, and had diarrhea, but it seemed like with a little care they would be fine. They rode the entire time back on Stephanie’s lap. They seemed rather content to be snuggled up in the warmth of the car. We quickly realized that if they stood up it meant they had to pee! Ha, Stephanie ended up with a wet lap, but luckily we had brought extra blankets and towels.  We named them Fern and Amos.

When we got back to my house it became obvious that it was too cold out for them to be in the barn at their young age, so they ended up in the house.  That was interesting, but fun. The first week was pretty daunting, as they both ended up with colds and still struggled with diarrhea. There were a couple scary times when it seemed like one or the other might not make it, but after medication and cautious optimism they started to thrive.  Stephanie even learned how to properly give goats shots; she was far braver than me!  They also had to be bottle fed 4 times a day, so we dutifully came home every day on lunch to provide their meal. 

As scary as it was when they were sick, they were still so much fun. Baby goats are ADORABLE; I don’t think anyone could argue otherwise. They seem to have endless curiosity and are quite mischievous. Nothing quite as cute as a little goat hopping around the kitchen!  They stayed in the house for a couple weeks and then moved out to the barn with a heat lamp. However, they would still come in at lunch time. This lasted until they started stealing food from our lunches and jumping on the table! Oh, and Amos’s ears stood up!  I realized that in the drive back from Wisconsin he had suffered frostbite on the end of his ears and this had caused them to droop, but as he grew stronger so did his ears. 

Old Man Henry

Henry has been my faithful companion for 13 years. My family got him as a young pup when I was 16 years old. Originally he was supposed to be my dad’s dog. However, we quickly formed a bond and he has been with me through all of the ups and downs of my teenage and early adult years. Not only has Henry been an important part of my life for all those years, but he is a daily physical reminder of my dad who died two days after my high school graduation.

I can’t talk or think about Henry dying without tearing up. Partially because he is my dog, and I love
him, but also in part because of the history and connection he has with my dad. Luckily for me he is still in great health. Besides a little deafness (which I am pretty sure is actually just selective hearing) and cloudy eyes, Henry is still spry and active.

The funny thing about Henry is that he has always been an old man, even when he was just a little guy. He is a bit nervous and crotchety, but also listens well and hates to be reprimanded. He doesn’t cause much drama at the house, although he did have a recent stint of “wandering” off to the neighbor’s house. They were feeding him steak tri-tips, no wonder he couldn’t resist! Mostly Henry just hangs around the house, hoping someone will drop food on the floor. He sleeps in an old suitcase, which we make sometimes off-color jokes about. And he has his own “voice”, if you've ever been to my house you've probably heard it. :) About the only farm thing he does is the occasional rodent control. He can kill a rat, mole, or bunny in a flash. Usually he just ends up killing rodents after Noodle the cat has been torturing them and I don’t want them to suffer anymore.

How it began

 I’ve always been a total animal nut. It started with cats as a toddler and progressed from there.  I grew up on a hobby farm in Wisconsin, so there were always lots of animals hanging around the house.  We had a variety of animals, but I think my two favorite farm animals were probably chickens and goats. We had pygmy goats, so their babies were extra cute.  The picture below was taken after we had two does both give birth to twins on the same day. Don’t laugh, this is the mid-90’s and I am wearing my “barn jacket”.  Hidden underneath that fabulous jacket is a pair of striped bib overalls. My dad and I's uniform of choice.

Several years later, for my 17^th birthday, my parents got me a sweet little alpine bottle goat. His name was Reese. This is a picture of him being lovingly smooshed by my friend Brittany.  I’d have to say he was my most memorable birthday present.   

Reese was an unusual goat in that he was the only goat we had at the time, so he thought our dogs were his herd. He would run around the yard with the dogs, and jump into your car if he had the chance.  When we moved away from Wisconsin, Reese went to another farm to be spoiled by some other animal loving kids.

I knew when we moved from Wisconsin that someday I wanted to have my own little farm again.  With the arrival of my goats this spring I achieved that goal.
 

The beginning

I had never even thought of creating a blog.  It seemed like too much work, and frankly my life is pretty boring. But at work today we were talking about some of the critters on my little farm and I was promised at least two readers (and I'm sure my mom will read this too) so I thought, "what the heck, I'll do it."  I'll try to keep you all updated on all of the mundane details of my haphazard attempt at "farming".  I use that term loosely, as I don't actually farm, more like I collect random animals and waste a lot of money on them. I'll try to post pictures, and keep you abreast of the mating rituals of my tiny rooster. Sounds exciting, right?