What's in a Name?

Most of the time it's easy to name a goat. A name just sticks. But with one little baby, there was no name that stuck. We tried Wonder...didn't work. She was Tapenade for a while because it went with Olive. I tried Piper, Little Bit,and Star but they didn't pop into my head when I saw her. I couldn't remember what I named her.
This little one is a bottle baby because she wasn't getting enough milk. She needed a little help to survive.
So the other night when I was giving her a bottle, I thought of my friend's daughter, Zoey, that is fighting for her life in the ICU. I am thinking about Zoey and her mom a lot. It is anyone that's raising a teenager greatest fear. The call in the night that says your child has been in a terrible accident.
Zoey....It's a perfect name for this spunky little goat that takes after that spunky young woman who is not that big herself. So I named her Zoey.
And bought her an orange collar because orange is the color of the ribbons everyone is tying to their antennae.
Since I wanted to do something but really could do nothing, I did this. I made a poster of Zoey the goat and took it to the hospital one night. We had gone to dinner for my birthday in town and were right by the hospital. Knowing it was too late for visitors, I handed it to the nurse and left with the heaviest heart. I felt terrible for showing up so late and terrible for what my friend was going through.
I thought the poster was a stupid thing to do...not very mature.
But....the next day I heard through the grapevine how much that silly poster meant to her mom. She loved it and got a little bit on enjoyment in the midst of all the chaos. A baby goat gave her a smile.
So now the plan is to sneak little goat Zoey into the hospital when she gets out of ICU. And a gaggle of women want to help me.
One is practicing coughing very goat-like.


Update: I am happy to report that Zoey is out of ICU. She is talking, eating, and joking with her friends. She has a long road ahead but she survives! So if any of you have a spunky, sassy, teenager that always crosses the line and pushes your buttons, give that child an extra hug...they have what it takes to survive.

I see that trip to the hospital in one little goat's future.

The County Fair

It's my favorite time of year. Fair time. I love the county fair. The smells, good and bad, the barns full of every kind of farm animal with the constant reminders of e-coli,

and the scones.


Goatfarmer and I went to the county fair to watch the goatjudge judge goats. It was so much fun I think I need to take a few goats there next year, although the doe that won Best Doe in Show would have been very hard to beat and her yearling daughter was very Cora Belle/Bettyish. Very pretty Nigerian classes. I want to be a part of that....plus I just got a banner with my farm name on it that needs a little attention.

There were a lot of little boys showing goats. Goat boys.




And some very cute goat girls.




There is nothing like a big purple ribbon to put a smile on your face.

I Got Lucky

I was hoping for as many hens as I could get as duck eggs are going for $5 a dozen around these parts.
Look what I ended up with.

My Bike

I wanted a bike for my birthday. I want to ride it back and forth to the farm. It has to have a basket to carry my eggs.
Last night we went to look at bicycles. I was excited because, like I told Hubby, I don't ever remember getting my own bike. I usually saved my requests for a new animal. That doesn't mean I didn't ride bikes, I just rode my sisters', my mother's, or even my dad's.
I saw a beautiful red and white Schwinn cruiser at one store. I had Hubby get it down, because there is never anyone to help when you need it, and threw my leg over to ride it up and down the aisles. As I started to pedal I felt like I was on a kid's bike. My knees almost hit the handlebars. I am fairly tall and apparently in the bike world one size fits all. I wobbled up and down the isles and told Hubby that it was just too small....but they didn't have any other sizes.
No one had any other sizes. As I tried out several more bikes at a different store I was horrified that I could no longer ride a bike. I told Hubby I felt all old and rickety.

He said, Ya, he thought that too when he was watching me try to ride.

I couldn't find a bike I liked. I could hardly steer any of them with my knees up into my hands. And the beach cruisers were like choppers with their handlebars all up in the air making steering difficult.

A bit discouraged we went home and decided to pull the old bike off the hangers in the garage. This bike is almost as old as I am. Hubby put air in the tires...a lot of air....and off I went. The bike fit perfect. I felt like I was twelve again riding my dad's bike to Sara's house. Ya it's a boy's bike but I'm not really sure why boys have the bar and girls don't. It hurts just the same when you land on it.

So once again I didn't get my own bike...but it leaves my present open for the new water trough I want.

The Power of Prayer

Please say a prayer for my friend's beautiful daughter, Zoey. She has been in a terrible car accident and has a severe head injury along with a compound fracture of her femur.
I can't even imagine what her family is going through right now as it is every parent's nightmare. She is in surgery now and I am a firm believer of the power of prayer and positive thoughts. So please take a moment out of your day and say a few words for this wonderful spirited young woman who has so much to give to this world.

Show Practice

White Pony

I saw a white pony on craigslist. It had the glowing description of a perfect party pony. And he was all white. With a nice balanced body. Pictures of him being finger painted by a bunch of toddlers sealed the deal for me.
But I had told myself, after Sunny, I would never get another horse...at least until I could afford to call the high-priced horse vet out at midnight on Christmas Eve.

I emailed the link to a friend who said...when do we go look at him?

I told her we weren't because I still couldn't afford to call the high-priced horse vet out at midnight on Christmas Eve.

But I kept looking at him.

I showed him to Hubby. Hubby said he didn't want another horse. He didn't even look at the ad. I told him that for sure when I have grandkids I would get a pony to lead them around on. He didn't say a word so I took that as a good sign and looked at the pony again.
I finally emailed the owner with a few questions. I didn't hear back and the ad was taken off.
I had missed my opportunity to get the best pony in the world.

A few days later as I perused craigslist I came across an ad talking about the magnificent white pony and another that had been listed at the same time.
The ad told of going to look at these ponies and the white one bucked, kicked and reared the whole time and the other had locking stifles. They had bought the locking stifle pony without knowing. Apparently I dodged a bullet....or the children I would have put on him did.
Good thing because I still can't afford to call the high-priced horse vet out at midnight on Christmas Eve.

How To Do Dog Agility

First you get a dog. Vest optional.



Next you walk around the course without the dog, mapping out your strategies. Don't even think about what that looks like to the outsiders.



Give your dog a pep talk to get his attention.



A massage always helps the athlete.



Then you run like crazy.



Pray.



And then run some more.



When you have jumped the last jump....



It's time to rest.

The Original Goat Girls

When I was 11, I was watching Captain Kangaroo, and Mr. Green Jeans brought in a couple of Saanen kids. I ran straight in to my mother and told her I wanted a goat. She agreed that we would find a baby goat. I told my best friend, Sara, that I was going to get a goat. She ran home and asked her parents if she could get a goat as well. They agreed.

My mom found a woman that had two doelings, Buzzin' Bee's Sweet Pea and Buzzin' Bee's Star. She also found a good 4H club (Kids Inc.) for us to join and learn about caring for goats. Thus started our lifelong love affair with anything goat.
We spent hours with our goats, running back and forth between our houses with goats in tow. Most kids were followed by a dog, we were followed by Sweet Pea and Star. Sara's dad coined us "the goat girls" and it stuck. Stuck like the hay and goat hair that clung to our goat coats.

We thrived in 4H and spent hours at the fairgrounds showing our goats. Many of you don't know this about me but I am the 1977 goat milking champion...yes me.
Oh the trouble we got in at those fairs. One of our moms would drop us off in the morning and someone would come by at 10pm to get us. This is another little known fact...the boys in the pig barn are the cutest.
Sara and I would sit on the rail of our goat pen and poll the public...Sweet Pea or Star? Which name do you like better? Star, her goat, was the most popular. I didn't get it. I thought Sweet Pea was the better name. Whimsical and sweet. Not Star...hard with that abrupt ar sound at the end.

Sara and her daughter Marisa came over yesterday so Sara could get her goat fix. She doesn't have goats anymore but that doesn't mean her love for them has ended.



When a local university brought a herd of goats in to clear the hillside, Sara, much to the dismay of her teenage daughter, whom she had told they would only be stopping for a minute, sat on the hillside and watched the goats. Watched them long enough she spied a sickly one and wouldn't rest until she called the owner of the goat renting company and got him out to look at it. Not satisfied with his answer she told him how to treat it.


We are now the old goat girls but we are the originals. So what do you think? Sweet Pea or Star?

Indy Visits the Petting Farm

Goat Photos

The Lucky Ducks

Their luck is holding....they got an above the ground swimming pool.



note to son-yes, there's still five but only four show in the picture. Looks like we might have 4 hens and 1 drake. Good thing because duck eggs are going for $5 a dozen around here.

The Eagles In My Yard

In response to a few questions, I will tell you about the eagle in the picture in the previous post. The photo was taken in my yard. It involved walking a few feet and pointing my camera in the tree. They are that close. When we first moved on this small bay we saw a few eagles now and then, in fact, on our first morning in this house I got up early, put my son in a backpack, and walked along the beach. An eagle flew over my head and I couldn't believe it. I had never seen an eagle before. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I rushed up the hill to tell sleeping Hubby what I'd just seen.
I don't wake Hubby anymore when I see an eagle. They are everywhere, having made a full recovery in their numbers. In fact we have eagles in our yard all the time now. We hear their cries all day long and the sound of that 6 foot wingspan coming toward you is something to behold. It thrills our guests but we have become a bit ho-hum about them. At times there can be 25 plus eagles flying around.
Their main and preferred diet is salmon but have been known to catch a small animal....about the size of a Chihuahua. That poses a problem for Solomon and his caregivers. He can't go out into the yard unattended. This year has been a bit unusual in the fact that we are seeing evidence of the eagles catching small game. A neighbor reported a sighting of someone's pet rabbit flying across the bay. I believe it is usually the young immature birds but can't be sure. A while back an eagle was feeding on a possom at the farm and dropped it somewhere. I could smell it but didn't come across it until I found Pickles gleefully rolling in it. The dog was smiling! The possom was as big as she is and I got a good laugh imagining her going home smelling like a dead possom.
Call it karma...I call it revenge.

Bird Watching

Who's watching who

Happy Cows?

You've heard the advertisement about happy cows in California, well I am not convinced. After our recent road trip and many hours observing the dairy cows along 99 between Bakersfield and Stockton I would like to say,
Really?
The thermometer read 106 and there were cows standing around in small dirty pens with no shade whatsoever. Ok some of the pens had a little shade but not enough for the many cows packed into that pen so a group would be huddled together trying to create what shade they could with their bodies. At least I think that's what they were doing. Farm after farm I didn't see one happy dairy cow. It broke my heart. Maybe cows don't need shade...maybe there is something I don't know about cows. Maybe cows like to live in their own waste and stink with not a blade of grass to munch on. Maybe they like the hot sun beating down on their black backs. I don't know but I do know it made me uncomfortable that thousands of people pass by these farms every day and most don't even care.

That is where your milk comes from.

Cora Belle gave tons of sweet fresh clean milk this year and while we aren't huge milk drinkers we do like an occasional bowl of cereal and a glass with a sweet treat.
My suburb raised hubby was well on board with the drinking of goat's milk when all of a sudden he stopped. Puzzled I asked him why. Well apparently he had watched a news story about someone getting sick on raw goat's milk and it grossed him out a bit...we've all been there. I, being the diplomatic person that I am, told him that was stupid. I told him that people get sick on pasteurized cow's milk but it's not newsworthy so you don't hear about it. I told him he would die if he knew where his Costco milk came from. He agreed but still couldn't get over it so I gave up and dried Cora Belle off so I could travel a bit this summer and not get anyone that knows how to milk to milk her.

So as we drove home last week and passed farm after farm of cows in these kind of conditions, we remarked on the poor cows standing in the heat. We didn't see one dairy farm where the cows were out on pasture like the ads on television.
While passing a particularly bad farm I pointed to it and said,
"I would like to take this opportunity to point out to you that THIS is where your milk comes from."

His reply- "When does Alice wean her kids so we can start drinking goat's milk again?"

My Little Friend Wendell