Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Welcome to Oregon

Well this weekend nobody told me but somebody came and got my two little daughters Pretty Baby and Calypso. Everyone was being very nice to me for a change and I got a few special treats and even Betty asked me how I was feeling and I said "fine," and Moldy came up to me and said "do you miss your little daughter?"

And I said "why should I?" because I could see Izzy through the fence in the down below pasture where she was snuggling with my mother Belle Pepper.

"She's standing right there," I said, and then all of a sudden I put two and two together and realized why my chandelier was feeling too full with all the milk that had not been drunk by anyone. And so I pitched a fit.

The farmer came and brought me some peanuts and milked me on the milkstand with some nice grain and scratched my ears.

"Your chandelier is looking much better, Millie," the farmer said. "Maybe you would like to go to the fair after all."

So then I pitched another fit until some more treats were provided. The farmer let me stay on free range for the rest of the day and so I got to watch when Moldy's daughter Abby went into the kidding stall to have her kids.

Moldy had to go in too because they never go anywhere except together and so both of them were in there bawling when Abby popped out her first kid, a tiny implacable kitten about three inches long. The kitten prowled off immediately in search of milk while Abby laid down and had another kid, this one normal size but it seemed big because the other one was so small.

"Oh how nice," said the farmer, " a boy and a girl."

The farmer needs new glasses though because the two girls Hannah Belle had the other day turned out actually to be a boy and a girl and this boy and girl turned out to be two girls, one large and one small.

I had had high hopes that they might be normal on account of being born here and eventually coming under the influence of the Baby Belle family but right from the start they have been showing Moldy family tendencies and in fact as soon as they hit the ground Moldy said, "Welcome to Oregon!"

Which just goes to show. The farmer is calling them Pebbles and Sandy, but I am going to call them Corvallis and Pendleton.

PS - The farmer somehow deleted several comments and it seems the commenting is not acting right and someone kindly wrote in regarding Tangy's exploits to remind the public that YOU MUST BE VERY CAREFUL riding a goat and make sure the goat is big and can hold your weight because YOU CAN HURT THE GOAT if you aren't careful. And remember too that the goat needs time to adjust so you have to build up the weight a little at a time. Tangy has been practicing carrying a pack and she is as big as a house, this is really the only kind of goat you can ride for even a short while.

PPS - When I say "the goat" in the previous PS, I mean the big Nubian crosses. Do NOT ride a Nigerian Dwarf. If you see a Nigerian Dwarf somewhere, simply give him or her a yogurt covered pretzel and go on your way. Thank you.


Marigold said...

What about Boring? Watson is from Boring, Oregon. It is true. There is such a place.

Terry Golson said...

Once again I find out that I am sadly lacking in the treat department. Yogurt covered pretzels for goats? And here I'm just giving them the stinky manna treats. Goats are treated much better in Oregon.

Millie said...

I'm so sorry your babies left. We hate when our kids leave. It's a good thing you put your public service announcement on about riding only very big goats.

trashmaster46 said...

Why would anybody ride a goat? Everyone knows that goats are for ear-skritching and giving treats to.

AshleyInNYC said...

I know they're no Belles, but I would love to see pics of the new Oregon babies!! :-)

Willow Fen Farm Goats said...

All the little girl babies here have left us for their new homes, but we were smart and each had a boy baby along with a girl baby and the boys are still here getting fat while keeping our chandeliers empty. Our farmer puts us in the milkstand every evening in a futile attempt to get some milk for herself, but we call the boys over to drink it all as soon as we see her coming across the yard with the milk pail in hand.