They Just Know

Usually when we hear the coyotes singing they just sing to each other, each to each, and they don't bother troubling us with their conversation.

But last night I was lying in my stall and I thought I heard one of the coyotes say, "Millie, why don't you come outside? Come outside, Millie, I want to show you something."

I thought it was just me or maybe I imagined it so I didn't say anything but when I got up in the morning Betsy and all the bigs were standing in a large clump instead of sprawling every which way like they usually do. Blue Umbrella and Betty had attached themselves to the clump. And so had Eo and the rest of the minis. So there was a big crowd of everybody standing inside an invisible fence that was built for about half as many goats as were in there.

"What is going on?" I asked Eo. As usual she said, "Why?" very pointedly, and went back to plotting to overthrow the government.

So I asked Pinky Jr.

"Nothing," said Pinky Jr. "We are all just standing together."

"Oh," I said.

"Because Atticus isn't here."

"Oh," I said. I did a little doublecheck to make sure Izzy and Ringo were right by me.

Just then the coyotes started singing. And sure enough, one of them called my name. In the broad daylight. Oh dear, I thought. I scooched all three of us inside the invisible fence.

"How do they know?" I asked Pinky Jr.

"Know what?" said Pinky, Jr., because she has a short attention span.

"Know Atticus isn't here."

Pinky Jr. shrugged. "They just know."

Good Night, Sweet Prince

There isn't enough room here or anywhere else for a complete list of noble deeds performed by Atticus. So this is only the tip of the iceberg, beginning with goats whose lives were saved:

Betsy (gazing fondly in a part-Nubian manner at large coyote until Atty appeared)
Hannah Belle (2x - once hanging upside down from fence, once stuck in gate requiring Jaws of Life. Atty called for assistance and remained with victim until aid arrived)
Marv (rolled under the deck when he accidentally got born outside in 20 degree weather. Atty would not stop barking)
Buttons and Cappy (born in the down-below shed, Atty would not let anyone in the door)
John and George (born in the pasture when no one was home. Atty escorted them throughout the day)
Mel (Atty lay by her for who knows how long while she was stuck in fence through her own stupidity)
Pinetop (foot trapped between deck boards, could not extricate self, Atty called for assistance)
Strange man came to farm, possibly selling firewood, and started yelling at the farmer for no apparent reason. Atty appeared from nowhere and grabbed the man's shirtsleeve in an encouraging manner, while gazing at the man intently and making a low rumbling noise like an earthquake in the distance. The man was encouraged to stop yelling and get in his car and drive away immediately.
Intervened on behalf of his elderly friend Rocky the Raccoon.
Lay outside Snow Pea's stall for 6 hours when she was crying because she had to stay inside alone.
Allowed baby goats to use him as a trampoline.
Did not kill Wendell, again and again. Repeatedly did not kill Wendell.

Too much more to list. Too many things.

We hope he is on a mountaintop covered with snow somewhere, where it never gets too hot, and the baby goats have nice soft hooves, and the dinner is served on time, and there is a little cave he can lie in, and look out over his domain.

A Terrible Quiet

Just when the wings of time got started again, there is nothing we can do but stop them.

Atticus had a sore paw and it seemed to go away and then a couple of days ago it got much worse, and he could hardly walk. He was huffing in pain whenever he limped anywhere. Today he went to the vet. The farmer was awfully worried he might have a nail in his paw but there didn't seem to be any way it could have gotten in.

But the farmer kept thinking: what if he has a nail in his paw? What then? He will have to wear a special boot. Maybe the saddlemaker over by the county line can make a special custom boot for him.

They took the x-rays and he didn't have a nail in his paw. He had bone cancer. And he was too big for them to do anything. A Pyrenees cannot walk on three legs. Especially not one as magnificent as Atticus.

And so today on a beautiful summer afternoon, Atticus went out of this world.

And the farmer came home alone from the vet.

And now all over the farm there is a terrible quiet.

I had no idea it could ever be so quiet.

The Gossamer Wings Etc

First of all I am very annoyed. Our farmer got a job in the city and would not write the blog for me. Everything passed unremarked as if it never happened. The kids, the hay, the unfortunate incident with the tractor, the thing that happened where Atty injured his paw, Wendell's shocking incontinence. Nothing entered into eternity on the gossamer wings of my blog.

THIS GOAT'S LIFE stood still.

The lettuce bolted to the size of a Christmas tree and nobody picked it. The farmer only wanted to sleep when not driving back and forth to Seattle to work at the stupid job which has nothing to do with Nigerian Dwarf dairy goats. This was very selfish.

My children Ringo and Izzy did not get fully documented as they should have been. This was not correct. That little brown one whatever his name is, Jimson Weed I think, hardly got documented at all but that's fine, who cares, he is just a little brown goat. Also Cherry's crazy little bunny rabbit daughter did not even get a name yet. That's how bad it was. When she gets a name it will probably be something like "Cherrybunny" or "Bunnybing" which is just sad.

The neighbor lady had to come and milk the milkers. Actually the neighbor lady did a much better job than our farmer but nobody mentioned that. Big Orange even got used to the neighbor lady.

The horses got tremendously fat from eating constantly and never getting any exercise. The neighbors from Longbranch had to come and put all the hay in the barn. Four hundred bales. That was completely unheard of. The idea of someone else putting your hay in the barn. It's shocking. They don't even have neighbors like that in the city. They only exist in the country.

Well anyway now there is going to be a big party. For the end of summer. There will be fiddlers. Or at least one fiddler. Unless the fiddler cancels.

But anyway. Time will start flapping its gossamer wings again.

Soon.

Ringo

This is a picture of my son Ringo. He is a good son but I prefer Izzy, and I was also feeling kind of drained, so I suggested for Ringo to go and drink some milk from Cherry or Jimmy. Jimmy had a little son on Saturday I think. I wasn't really paying attention because it was kind of boring. Jimmy is brown and her son is brown so it was really too much brown to concentrate on.

Jimmy is not part Nubian, though, so that didn't really work out because she was able to discern that Ringo wasn't her son, even though he is much better looking than her actual son, no offense that is just a fact, so he didn't get any Jimmy milk. Cherry is part Nubian, though, so he gets plenty of milk from her. Cherry's little daughter doesn't need much milk anyway because she looks like a bunny rabbit. And the rabbit is not a dairy animal.

Isabelle Ringing

This is my two children. Isabelle and Ringing. Ringing is called Ringo. Isabelle is called Izzy. Woops, this is only Izzy. Ringo will come later. He looks the same, but very different.

Pull Knob to Release

Well the farmer had to go to work on Saturday so the farmer asked Lori to keep an eye on me "Because she is coming near her time."

Who isn't coming near their time? How can you get anywhere without coming near your time? In fact, shouldn't you be right on your time?

Anyway Lori was keeping an eye on me and she must have taken her thinking cap off and left it somewhere because after several hours she called the farmer to report that Xie Xie looked a little under the weather, and that one of her babies was too small, in Lori's opinion. "She looks like a newborn," Lori said accusingly.

What am I supposed to do about that? thought the farmer. The farmer was on the freeway and there is a new cellphone law regarding talking on the phone so the farmer just said, ok thank you.

I don't know where the farmer's thinking cap was either because Xie Xie doesn't have any babies this year, she is milking through, so how could one of them be too small and look like a newborn?

It's a puzzle, make no mistake.

Anyway after several hours the farmer came home and was able to uncover the fact that Xie Xie's mysterious daughter was not too small. In fact she was just the right size, because she was a newborn. Only nobody seemed to want to claim her, certainly not Xie Xie who has taken a vow of chastity since popping out Alica and Walker last year.

Big Orange was interested in the baby, but it is a known fact that Big Orange already had her babies. Brandy is an old bag. Breezy is a crippled old bag. Winnie is all that and a bag of chips. Penrose would have taken it, she is a professional maiden aunt. But you could see it wasn't hers.

And little Jimmy was still holding her water.

Finally Cherry came forward and claimed the baby, offering no explanation or apology.

We knew Jimmy was going to have a wether-child. We did not know Cherry had climbed the same tree.

Anyway I was thinking how odd that whole thing was today when all of a sudden out of the blue I started screaming bloody murder. I screamed for two solid hours. I thought I had appendicitis. "Help me!" I screamed, and the farmer came and gave me a cup of grain.

"That is not the kind of help I need!" I screamed. But I ate it to be polite.

Suddenly a gigantic wet black and white baby appeared behind me, possibly having dropped from some unseen vending machine in the barn ceiling. Or down a baby chute.

For some reason I felt a lot better. I noticed how handsome the black and white baby was. It reminded me of my little friend at the drive-through buck window. I couldn't really think any more about it because suddenly I started screaming again.

"HELP ME!" I bawled. Another little baby appeared behind me. The first one was still crawling around ineptly. The farmer brought me a bucket of warm water, and some more grain.

How odd, I thought.

When did the farmer buy that vending machine. Why have I never noticed it before.

Fire in the Hole

I am still here. It is 4th of july, everyone's least favorite holiday of the year. We are all getting huddled in the barn in preparation for the horrifying night of country artillery. I am going to have my kids soon but not right yet. They are not going to be the last kids of the year. Joemma is going to have kids too. The father of her babies is one of the wethers. Their tale of forbidden love will be told later. The rocket's red glare is already starting all around us. So I will say adieu for now.

Song of Myself

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks. Alice over at Minter Bay shot out a set of triplets. Alice is Binky's little sister, and she shares the much-coveted Betsy family stealth kidding gene. Unlike Peaches who likes to make the thing into a miniseries, the Betsy family can kid between commercials.

Anyway that is all very interesting if you have nothing better to talk about but nothing has been written about me in a very long time.

I am almost one year old. I am one of the prettiest and most charming goats in the world. I have an incredibly wonderful personality and an adorable black "Clouseau" mustache. I am good at being carried around and accepting admiration.

My favorite goat is my mother, Belle Pepper. I go everywhere with her. She is a very good mother even though she ran out of milk a couple of months ago which is unfortunate since Nigerian goat milk is very good. It's the nectar of the gods. I am keeping her for my mother anyway though instead of switching to Penrose.

I do not really like LaManchas except Xie Xie. Big Orange is fine though. Wronny doesn't bother me too much. I guess I could live with Binky if I had to. Ziggy isn't completely awful. Brandy is an old bag so I just avoid her and there is no way she could catch me if it came down to it. That little slow-witted pink one is all right too, I kind of like her.

Actually I guess it is just Winnie I don't like. She knows everything and the price too.

I do not really like minis that much either except technically Jammies and Bumblebee are minis and they are tolerable. I guess Eo is ok too, all she ever does is sit around plotting to overthrow the government. If you ask her what she is doing she says "why?" and makes a mental note of it on the docket of disgruntlement that she carries around in her head.

Eo Docket Entry, in re "Lawsuit Against the World": Millie asked me what I was doing again. Why?

I am getting ready for my birthday party and for my kids' birthday party. I am expecting a lot of presents. I would like a forest green satin jacket for the Fair, monogrammed with HH (Herron Hill) on one side, and MB (Million Belles) on the other, so no one else can wear it. If it doesn't have the MB there are certain parties (Moldy) who might try to take it and pretend it is their jacket. I would like a bag of ginger snaps. I would like some apple peels, a pumpkin scone with orange frosting, and 200 raisins. New ones, not old dried-out dust-covered ones from someone's pocket.

You can send me these things care of the farm, with a nice note. And maybe a Starbuck's gift card tucked inside.

Thank you for thinking of me. How kind you are.

Miracle Pt. Two

We only have one Toggenburg, Penrose, but she is a good one. Penrose is our spokesgoat. She is kindly and good-natured and she doesn't beat up small goats, especially not babies. In fact she loves babies.

But Penrose has always had problems getting settled, and even though she is six years old, she has only kidded twice. Nonetheless every year when the babies start getting born, Penrose examines them closely.

"I think that one might be mine," she decides now and then. And she will pick out a baby and follow it around, usually one that looks kind of like a Toggenburg. One with ears, I mean. Then after a while she changes her mind. "I guess not."

Well Rainy the hoodlum got stuck outside with no milk. So she looked around for milk, and everyone turned her down. You cannot get milk from a LaMancha, that's just hopeless. You would be lucky to get away without an earbite. A Nubian cross might give you some milk, but first you have to explain what you want, and that could take a really long time. Like a month.

No matter what you ask them, they always say, "what? Wait a minute, what?"

Anyway Rainy started sidling up to Penrose. And Penrose let her do a milk check. But Penrose doesn't have any milk, because she hasn't kidded for two years. But Rainy hung around with Penrose anyway, since Penrose made a little spot for her in the strawpile, and then discouraged the LaManchas from biting her ears, which is one thing certain LaManchas like to do just as a hobby.

And every little while Rainy would check again, just to be sure Penrose didn't have any milk. And that went on for two nights. And on the third night Rainy's wishing and dreaming and relentless milk checking finally brought the milk down from a way up inside Penrose, who comes from 16 generations of purebred Swiss star milkers.

And so now Rainy has two mothers, a daytime mother and a nighttime mother.

And this just goes to show you that when it comes to milk, you have to want it. You have to really want it. And then you can make it flow, even if it seems like a miracle.

The Miracle of the Loaves, the Fishes, and the Toggenburg

Blue Umbrella has two daughters. They are my cousins. Their names are Blue-Eyed Elaine (Lainey) and Rainy Day (Rainy). Lainey is a mama's girl and stays by Blue most of the time. Oh, she will do a commando assault on the alfalfa stack, sure, but she keeps one eye on her mama while she is sneaking past the security guard. And she comes when Blue calls.

Rainy is a stone-cold hoodlum and does as she pleases.

So what kept happening was this. Dinnertime came and everyone queued up by the gate, jostling to be first to run into our night stall where we get our grain and hay. The farmer opened the door and we all rushed in like a dam breaking and the farmer closed the door and went on to the next thing. That was the system and everyone followed it.

Except Rainy. She would be dancing on our little patio or sticking her head through the fence to grab some blackberry leaves or sleeping or insulting one of the big LaManchas from a safe distance or something like that. And she wouldn't come in for dinner.

The first few times the farmer went and got her. Then Rainy started scampering and fleeing when she saw the farmer. Then the farmer said, "fine. Sleep with the big milkers and no grain and no milk all night. See how you like that."

The next morning the farmer would come out and Rainy would be desperate, yelling to her mama for milk and running around in circles thinking that one more magic circle would probably cause the dinner door to pop open like she was in an Aladdin movie or something. And when Blue would come out in the morning, Rainy would rush up to her and start guzzling milk in a panicky manner even though she is too fat already.

That happened for a couple of nights. But then on the third night, Rainy looked up quite casually when Blue came out in the morning, as if to say, "oh hi, nice to see you, how have you been, is that a new haircut." She didn't even try to get any milk.

"That's odd," said the farmer.

Woops I have to go. Part Two tomorrow.

This Day in History

On this day in history, Grover Cleveland became the first President to be married in the White House. Queen Elizabeth ll was crowned in Westminster Abbey. Robert E. Lee took command of the Confederate Army. The Vandals sacked Rome.

And on a small farm in Walla Walla, Washington, a little white goat was born.

She is no longer with us, but she is all around us.

Happy Birthday, Baby Belle.

Hoodlums in Action

In this photo, two kid hoodlums sneak past the "security" guard on their way to the alfalfa stack. See you later, stickboy.

Goat Beauty Parlor

Add-a-Triplet

Ok Binky had her babies. Binky is a LaMancha with 12.5% Nubian as I mentioned earlier. Binky had two doe kids and they are miniManchas. They are not too bad looking since they are half Nigerian. Binky seemed pleased to see them but had no idea who they were. After a few days she noticed that they followed her everywhere. A flicker of understanding crossed her forehead one morning and she looked at the farmer in astonishment. "I had two babies!"

That was excellent. Except she was sharing a stall with Peaches, who was already supposed to have had her kids, and by this time on Thursday, Peaches was starting to go into labor and when the farmer came out to the barn she had chased Binky, who is three times her size, into a corner of the stall and taken the babies. What can I say, there were a lot of powerful hormones surging through her body, and she saw those babies and she WANTED them.

Binky is very gentle and kind and has no underlings and she looked on helplessly with a flicker of misunderstanding brewing inside her 12.5% head. "I guess those aren't my babies? Maybe they are kittens that like goat milk?"

Well, the farmer came in and saw what was going on and took Binky and her babies out and put them in a different stall, and fluffed the straw so Peaches could have her own babies and go back to her right mind, and that's what she did after making a long drawn-out all-day drama of it. Peaches had two doe kids and got them started in a very professional fashion and inspected them thoroughly for any irregularities and set up a nest for them under the feeder box and once they were asleep went back to her full-time job of eating as much as possible.

"Ok good," said the farmer, and put Binky and her babies back in the stall. That was fine. Next morning the farmer came out and everything was nice and quiet. No fights, no disagreements, no baffled Binky crying, everything good. The farmer milked and did the chores and came back to let the babies out for a stroll during a brief break in the endless rain.

What does the farmer see?

Binky is lying in one corner of the stall, chewing happily, with one doe kid next to her sleeping. Peaches is in the opposite corner, chewing happily, with three doe kids in her pile, including Binky's cutest daughter. Peaches gives the farmer a shrugging look - "I usually have triplets."

No screaming, so the farmer says, "fine, do it your way."

The Cork Fell Out

Well, I should have known no one but me would read the schedule. Peaches was supposed to have her kids, and then Binky, but today Binky had twin doelings without even asking Peaches whether it was her turn. Too late to put them back in, they have already drunk about a gallon of milk. They're darling.

The farmer went up to Port Orchard over the weekend and met Willen's brother. Willen's brother can jump four feet even though his butt is definitely not any bigger than Willen's. His owner said he is good at jumping but needs a long runway to get up to to speed, kind of like a 747. She is taking him with her to college in the fall when she goes. I don't think Willen would do very well at college, even though he once ate part of a book. There was cake frosting on it.

Peaches continues to grow larger, defying all odds.

The farmer is going to make some special cheeses, spring cheeses, even though the rain is pouring down in a very November-like fashion.

Giant Peach

Stand back, Bumbles! That thing could go off!

Scenes From the Goat Show

The 'fun' begins.




















See you later, sucker. We are on our way to a goat show.






























If you ever see this sign, pull over.























Cora Belle scopes out the competition.





















Excitement (I think that's what it was?) fills the air as the show gets under way.

Binky and the Giant Peach and The Time

It is the nature of the time to have come. And it has. Well, it almost has. Well anyway, the time has come close.

Only three are left to kid. Peaches, aka the Giant Peach, is supposed to kid next week. If she doesn't explode first. She looks like a gigantic orange duck on ice skates.

Then there is Binky. By this time Binky, who is the daughter of Xie Xie, who is the daughter of Betsy, who is the daughter of Stacy, is only 12.5% Nubian. (That's four begats, isn't it?) But sometimes numbers don't tell the whole story.

Everyone agrees Binky is darling. Even visitors will say it.

"She isn't very pretty, is she?" one of them will say, admiring Binky's 12.5% Nubian horsehead as she saunters around looking for the barn.

"No," the other will say. "But she's darling."

We sometimes have to show Binky things. Like the barn. Over here, Binky, the barn is over here. It's the big white building. Do you remember it now?

This what we're eating it's called 'alfalfa.' It's a cute name, isn't it?

This is a 'fence,' Binky. You can't just go through it, you have to jump over. It's no good just sticking your head in and crying.

Anyway, we help her when we can if it isn't any trouble.

After the Giant Peach, Binky will kid.

That will clear the stage for the main event. In July, the last babies of the season will be born.

Mine.

Sprung

The spring is our favorite time of year because all the new babies are born and we get to meet them all. But it can also be sad, because most of the babies leave to go to new homes. Spud left, and Ivar left, and Mac left, and Frosty and Sparkles left.

And then last weekend Corky and Clarence left.

But Acorn, their triplet sister, stayed here.

For the last two days she has been standing at the fenceline gazing out blankly. Then she goes and lies alone in a corner of the baby barn.

We are going to have a Jamboree this year in celebration of Baby Belle's Birthday. I think that will cheer everyone up.

The farmer already told Acorn she can be in the baby goat races.

She is a fast runner, and I hope she wins.