spirit of joyjoy

We just heard some very bad news. It was about our friend Joyjoy who went to a wonderful new home with her twin Gracie several months ago. Joyjoy had an unforeseeable accident and she died. Joyjoy was a very adventurous goat and she loved to explore everything. She had a very strong spirit, you could always feel when Joyjoy was coming close even if you didn't see her right away. We were all very sad when we heard.

So today Zenyatta went to live with Gracie because Gracie was very upset. Zenyatta and Gracie are old friends from when they were babies together. So hopefully Gracie will start feeling better soon.

It made the farmer think because a very strange thing happened here the other day. We had a long day with all kinds of odd occurrences including a horse mishap and several trucks not working and we had to cancel our plans to get hay and the tractor got a flat tire and finally Blue Umbrella had her kids - two pretty little does, the first she has had - and by the time the farmer got around to milking the milkers it was ten o'clock at night and the farmer made a bad decision.

The farmer decided to leave Boxcar Betty and her two tiny kids, Pepe and Iota, in a little corner of the barn aisle instead of putting them in a stall. They were going to go back into the crush pen when the milkers went through to the milk parlor. And it seemed like a better idea than putting them in a stall with other goats when they were so tiny.

It wasn't.

When the farmer came out 45 minutes later after milking, Betty and her kids were gone. And just then the farmer heard Betty bellowing frantically down below in the back pasture. She was looking for her kids and she couldn't find them. It was pitch black and all the night animals were out, bats and owls and all kinds of creatures who could eat Pepe or Iota in one bite.

The farmer and Betty ran around yelling in the dark. No use. The farmer came in and turned the barn upside down: no Pepe, no Iota. The farmer went and got a flashlight and ran around again with Betty, not just in the back pasture but in the side as well. For twenty minutes they looked high and low.

Then suddenly Betty gave the farmer a squirrelly look and ran back up to the barn.

The farmer kept looking for a few minutes and then realized Betty was not bawling any more.

When the farmer got up to the barn, Pepe and Iota were just coming out from under a bookcase to get some milk from Betty.

"They weren't there before," said the farmer, even though no one was listening. "I looked under there before, and they weren't there."

Nobody said anything. "Someone must have been watching out for them," said the farmer.

Maybe.

Or maybe Spirit of Joyjoy.

Master Goat Farmer at Work

Our farmer is a trained professional and notices every nuance of goat behavior with unbelievable acuity. Yesterday it was blowing a gale from the west. One feeder tipped over and two roofs ripped off, one from the baby shed and one from Winnie's cabana. The farmer kept a keen eye on Blue Umbrella.

One lady dropped by and the farmer made the lady go out and look at Blue Umbrella.

"See how she is pinning her ears back like that and has a glassy expression on her face?" said the farmer in a lofty knowledgeable tone.

"Ok," said the lady.

"Now we will feel her ligaments," said the farmer, and tried to catch Blue Umbrella, but Blue Umbrella took off running which was no mean feat for a goat with a 64 inch waistline.

"This is how she acts when is getting ready to kid," the farmer told the lady.

"Is that right," said the lady. "My goodness, look at the time."

The lady took off running and the farmer could not catch her either.

Meanwhile my half-cousin-sister Betty began to get a terrible case of indigestion, and was circling all over the place, trying to sneak up on herself from behind.

"Why don't you lie down if you don't feel good, Betty?" I suggested.

"That's a good idea," said Betty, and lied down. Then it was such a good idea that she got up and lied down again, pawing up the ground to try to make a pillow. There wasn't any straw since we were out in the pasture so it didn't feel right so she got up and moved to a better spot and lied down again.

Meanwhile the farmer called Lori on the phone to ask Lori to go to the farmers' meeting. 'I don't think I can go to the meeting, because Blue Umbrella is going to kid."

The farmer got a nice kidding stall ready and brought everybody in and finally was able to catch Blue Umbrella and Blue Umbrella's ligaments were like a rock. "Hmm," said the farmer, astutely.

Blue Umbrella got booted out of the kidding stall and the farmer called Lori to see if it was too late to go to the farmers' meeting after all and just then Betty started screaming.

"Oh," said the farmer. "How convenient."

Betty was ushered into the kidding stall where she kidded a set of teeny tiny peanut twins.

As you can see, very little escapes the notice of a Master Goat Farmer.

Spring Blizzard Approaching

Every year in the fall there comes a day when four or five does come into heat at the same time.

"Oh how convenient," says the farmer. "I can take them all in to be bred and mark them off the list."

Five months later in the spring they all have their kids at the same time, causing the farmer to become (even more) bleary-eyed and short-tempered.

"Oh how inconvenient," says the farmer. "Remind me not to do that again."

Luckily at least Maddy went ahead of schedule with her mud-pit Easter Bunnies. And my mother Belle Pepper helpfully fooled the farmer and did not settle. That's good, I like being an only child.

But now Boxcar Betty, Blue Umbrella, and the sacred Jammies are lining up on the runway.

Fasten your seatbelts. There's a baby blizzard on the radar.

Bunny and Morchella

Easter Bunnies

I am only eight months old so obviously I still enjoy milk. But I have noticed lately that my mother has gotten much shorter and when I go to get the milk sometimes I can't quite fit under her and she actually goes up in the air like if you picked up a wheelbarrow. Because she is so short I guess. It's kind of odd, I used to fit all the way under there.

I hope she doesn't get too much shorter because it's a little bit inconvenient.

Today was Easter here and it was supposed to be a holiday with nothing on the schedule and the farmer was going to go and hunt for some morels because it is morel season. So the farmer did the chores and milked everybody and then went to feed the bucket babies and then heard some high-pitched distant baby screaming.

"What the goodness," said the farmer, and counted the triplets. Two sets makes six. One, two, three, four, five, six.

"What the goodness," said the farmer. Well, maybe it was Abbie and Amarillo, Moldy's twins, yelling about something. Just then they ran silently past. The baby screaming continued.

"What the goodness," said the farmer, looking around like a beagle at a foxhunt.

Maddy had gone behind the barn into the muddiest mud pit on the farm where the tractor even got stuck and had a set of twins three days ahead of schedule. Both were covered with mud and yelling angrily. Maddy was gazing into the distance in puzzlement, perhaps considering updating her Facebook page.

She tiptoed discreetly away from the two little babies as they tried to advance toward her.

The farmer came and got them out of the mud.

"Two little easter bunnies," said the farmer. "No morels."

Goat Glossary

Backsnack (verb, noun): to glean delicious morsels from another goat's back, to backsnack.

Usage:

"I enjoyed a nice backsnack when I stood next to Jammies at the feeder. Her woolly coat is like an alfalfa lint brush."

"I couldn't backsnack because I was stuck next to Peaches, and she has no undercoat."

Miracle Mac

If you are a person and you break your leg you have to waddle around for months with a cast. This is bad because you only have two legs. And one of them is broken. So half your legs are broken, and you were probably slow and ungainly to begin with. No offense to you, but you know what I mean.

I have seen people who were three or four or five times taller than a Nigerian, and they cannot even jump over a fence as tall as their middle. It's sad. Very sad.

Whereas Aunt Hannah Belle, who is 23 inches tall at the withers, used to be able to jump five feet before her waistline expanded. Now she can only jump four.

Anyway Mac the baby goat broke his leg ten days ago. Yesterday they took the cast off.

Fixed. One more example of goat superiority.

Without those thumbs, the people species would have died out a long time ago.

Grass Thief

Tommy the grumpy appaloosa owns all the grass around here. In this photo Moldy hides behind a locust tree so he will not see her eating his grass.

Just looking for some missing earrings, Tommy. Pay no attention.

Headed Out This Morning, Into the Sun

Wronny's bland babies finally got their names. There are two boys and one girl. The super sweet boy is going to be named Spud. The smart one is going to be named Ivar.

The girl had to have an A name. Every person who came said why not Annie? Or why not Ann? Or why not Anna? Anna Banana? One person said how about Anne-Marie?

Anyway her name is not going to be Ann or Anne-Marie. Her name is going to be Anastasia, like the Grand Duchess. She is very imperial.

But I guess everyone will probably just call her Annie.

Dreamboat Annie.

Ship of dreams.

Excuse Me, Sir, Which Way to the Milk Bar?

Double Triplets

Wronny had her kids yesterday exactly by the book as usual. She had a set of triplets, just like Joy. Very boring, just like Joy's. But much bigger and louder. They've been complaining since they got here.

Wronny went right back to work on the milkstand without batting an eye.

"I would not take a thousand dollars for that doe," the farmer said, to no one in particular.

Of course that is easy to say when no one has offered a thousand dollars.

But anyway that's what the farmer said.

Abilene and Amarillo

Joy Division

Joy had three triplets this morning.

There is a large one, a medium one, and a small one. They cry and they sleep and that's it.

No personality whatsoever.

My Special Day

Yesterday was warm and cold and sunny and cloudy and calm and windy and a little bit showery and then it snowed. It is hard to dress for that kind of weather.

Joy the sweetest LaMancha is as big as a house and going to kid this afternoon.

The farmer said yesterday I was going to get special attention because I haven't gotten any attention at all because everyone just pays attention to Melody's two spindly little daughters.

But then I didn't get any attention because the farmer had to go and get the grain and then unload it moaning and wheezing and grunting in a very dramatic fashion which did not draw any applause or interest from the audience.

Then the farmer got the kidding stall ready for Joy. Then Peaches started acting sick for no reason and wouldn't eat her grain so the farmer had to go and cut some branches for Peaches.

Then the farmer had to switch Tommy's blanket. What's the difference which blanket he has on? They don't have any fashion shows around here for grumpy old nags.

Oh then big surprise there was no more time for my special attention.

I don't care, why should I.

Captive Audience

Two More Travelers on the Oregon Trail

Moldy will be getting a little extra in her pay packet this week. She had two doelings at 3 o'clock. That's good, now she has someone to listen to all her complaints.

She is already telling them about the great utopia of Oregon where she used to live. The beautiful land of milk and honey, where candy grows on trees, and little white goats ride on satin cushions.

Speaking of little white goats I was expecting two more drab nondescript things but these are flashy, almost as colorful as me. In this case I wonder if my excellent name ideas - "Fungus" and "Mildew" - will be accepted.

Sometimes when the farmer says a suggestion is "under consideration" it doesn't necessarily mean what you think.

Oh well, once they are dry the drabness will probably set in.

T Plus Two

Nothing. Bupkus.

T Plus One

The tsunami didn't do anything and neither did Moldy. It wasn't a beautiful day, either, it was a soggy mess.

Now it has stopped raining though.

So what, it will probably start again soon.

We are sick of the rain and mud. Even Willen the fat Haflinger is sick of it, he wouldn't come up to the fence for a raisin bagel yesterday because he didn't want to walk through the mud. Instead he let Tommy take his bagel. The farmer's jaw dropped almost to the ground.

Tommy is a bagel hog, he would swim across Vaughn Bay for a bagel.

It is spring now, it doesn't matter what the calendar says. All the blossoms are blooming and the frogs are delirious with the their nighttime singing.

I don't know if anyone has bought the naming rights, I doubt it, but anyway I have suggested two names for Moldy's babies and they are "under consideration," whatever that means.

My suggestions are Fungus and Mildew, because these are mold names, and Moldy's name is Moldy.

Then they could be called Gus and Dewey, like the decimal. Nice.

That is if they ever show up.

T Minus Zero

Today is T Minus Zero, Moldy's due day, and she is not doing anything.

Outside it is very still with the last bits of the overnight rain drizzled out. The clouds are breaking up and it plans to be a beautiful day.

We are under a tsunami advisory because of the massive earthquake in Chile.

Don't worry if the water starts to rise I will rush up into the hayloft. I don't think I will be able to save Moldy so I hope she can swim. Good luck, Moldy.

There is hay up there so don't worry I will be okay.

This Weather

Around here people never get tired of talking about the weather when it is nice. When it is not nice nobody says anything. They just trudge around with their mud flaps out. But on days like the last few days everyone says, This Weather!

Can you believe This Weather?

How do you like This Weather?

This Weather!

Then the other person says, I KNOW!

or Isn't It Something?

They never get tired of it. They say it over and over.

I think it is because of this weather but yesterday I went into heat again. I felt it coming over me and I struggled against it but I was powerless to resist. I gave in and started screaming at the top of my lungs to signify that I was interested in gentleman callers - this is a good system, I don't know why people don't do it this way - and the farmer came running out of the house and picked me up and scurried to the car and stuffed me in a green dog crate and peeled out the driveway off to Minter Bay Dairy Goats.

We got there in record time - I think the screaming helped move things along - and we drove right to the drive-up buck window and the farmer got me out of the crate and carried me to the buck pen and inside there was the most darling little buck.

He looked just like a china doll! A little teacup buck like you might get in a cereal box! I mean adorable!

CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS WEATHER? I screamed at him.

I KNOW!!! He blubbered. ISN'T IT SOMETHING??!!

By this time I was ready to go and the farmer grabbed me and stuffed me back in the crate and we peeled out back to the farm, doing a donut in the field around the Minter Bay guard llama, who made no effort to check our IDs or anything else.

NICE TO MEET YOU! I screamed to the tiny buck. SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!