Monday, July 29, 2013

How to Give a Goat a Bath


In our continued quest to conquer the bizarre skin problems which have plagued our goats for the past seven months and defied repeated attempts at eradication, we recently consulted a goat specialist and embarked on an agressive treatment program which includes antibiotics, steroids, selenium injections (to boost the immune system), anti-parasite medication at some ten times the labelled dose, and  - this is the best part - weekly baths with betadine scrub. The aftermath of the veterinary visit is a story for another day (ever taken a rectal temperature on a distessed goat by flashlight?) - but today was the designated "Bath Day" so that is today's topic.

As Em and Ellie run for cover at even one raindrop, I was dreading the prospect of bathing them. How on earth would we accomplish this? I don't own any basin large enough to contain a goat. Could we sedate them? I considered putting them in the bathroom shower, but the glass shower door is likely not hoof-resistant and that seemed a recipe for a bloodbath. Eventually our brainstorming brought us to the invention of the "mini-pen," using some portable dog fencing to create a tiny enclosure just large enough to contain two people and one goat. All we needed now was a bowl of betadine solution, scrub brushes, gallons of warm water and a few extra helpers outside the mini-pen to hand things to us and feed the goat an occasional treat.

Unbelievably, we got them soaked, scrubbed, rinsed and dried without too much trauma. There was a slight delay when they drank the entire first bucket of hot water (better than a teapot!) but Elliot was curious enough to venture into the pen first and he didn't really seem to mind it, not even when we doused him with water. Apparently it's only cold water that bothers goats - too bad rain isn't warm...As we rubbed in the foam with scrub-brushes, his eyes drooped closed and he relaxed - I think I'm getting a massage, brother, this must be one of those spa places people talk about!

What better way to spend a sunny afternoon? Now their coats are so silky-soft, never mind that Emily and I are also completely disinfected. Life is good.



Thursday, July 18, 2013

My Kids Eat Weeds!


Recently a relative sent me an article describing how a California airport procured a herd of 400 goats for two weeks to clear all the weeds and brush from a runway area prone to forest fires. For this service they paid the owners of these goats nearly $15,000.

With college tuition looming in our future, my mind immediately went to the critters in our yard. I could cram them in the minivan and drive to our local airport - surely they could be useful clearing weeds from a runway or two - what would someone pay for the use of Em and Ellie for a few weeks? (Believe me, anyone with 400 goats has my sympathy - how can anyone get all that hoof trimming done??)

The main problem here is this - my goats don't like most weeds. They are more selective than finicky toddlers who need their sandwiches cut in triangles, never squares...My goats love poison ivy, raspberry bushes, lilies, hosta and lilacs, but they disdain ordinary grass, dandelions, nettles and most of the nuisance plants I want them to eat. Often we pull great bunches of weeds and drop them in the goat pen, but usually the boys just pick at them, carefully selecting just a few tasty bites before wandering away. We don't eat this stuff, silly people! Let us out so we can find our own!!

There is one tree in our woods which the goats just love - I have no idea what it is but the leaves are apparently quite palatable as the goats always run to it when we take them for walks. Unfortunately this plant has a rather nasty side effect, which is why we have unofficially named it "the diarrhea tree." Anyone who accidentally lets them near this pulls cleanup duty the next day...

During a recent visit from my botanist sister, I noticed Emily bringing an armful of weeds up from the garden. Instead of dropping them off in the pen, however, she took them inside and began to saute them in garlic and butter. Though I have often been accused of spoiling the goats, I thought this was going a bit too far, but she informed me that her aunt advised her to prepare these weeds (which I have been fighting for years in the garden) for our dinner! Amaranth, or pigweed, is supposedly loaded with minerals and protein and boasts all sorts of health benefits. I have to admit, it did have a succulent flavor, and we'll certainly never run out - but if I ever see Emily harvesting leaves from the diarrhea tree, I'll just order a pizza for dinner!

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Another Use for a Beach Umbrella?


Add to your list of necessities for goat owners - along with plastic tubs for hay, plenty of soda bottles, and a durable teapot - we have discovered that every goat family could benefit from a large beach umbrella. Most of us have one in the back corner of the basement anyway - but why use it just one week a year for that seaside vacation when the goats can borrow it every time it rains?
On sunny days, Em and Ellie take care of their personal elimination needs outside...The yard is our potty! Rainy days, however, create a challenge. Rather than chance even one raindrop impacting their fragile coats, they cower in the shed all day, using a large plastic tray (filled with wood shavings and discarded hay) as their litter box. This system worked well when the goats (and hence, the volume of their waste) were small, but as they have grown, the tray fills up so quickly that we simply dread the task of cleaning it. 

Enter the umbrella. The procedure is simple. Venture outside in the rain about every three hours, using treats to coax the goats out of the shed so they can perform necessary functions while staying dry under the umbrella. Pat the goat and compliment him to encourage future compliance. (Good job, Ellie! Good peepee!) Be sure to return the umbrella to the garage to dry before the next use. Change out of your own wet clothes. Nothing to it!

Next time it's raining like a monsoon outside and you're starting to get bored with your paperback book and your hot chocolate, and you just wish you could be somewhere else - be glad you're not in my backyard, desperately urging two malcontent goats to urinate before you're completely drenched.

Mostly, I'm so grateful we don't live in one of those countries where the rainy season lasts three months. Maybe they just don't have goats there. 

   

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Why You Should Never Run Ahead of a Goat...

Taking the goats for their evening walk is a complex process. Two people are required (though three is ideal). Below our house is the perfect spot for a leisurely stroll - a meandering creek bordered by a smorgasbord of trees, weeds and poison ivy. My husband mows a wide path through the tall grass to create a maze through which no goat can escape except at each end.The goats munch along the trail, filling their  bellies while the girls and I wander behind them. It's a bit like Dorothy's "yellow brick road" to the magical Emerald City.

The real challenge, however, is getting there. To reach the path, we need to lure the goats past the vegetable garden, the driveway and a pile of scrap metal. We devised a system where we open their gate, then run down the hill, shrieking and waving our arms in an attempt to convince the goats that we know something they don't - that they should follow us past all those temptations to get to wherever we are going. Usually it works well. Em and Ellie hurtle down the hill after us, leaping sideways and kicking up their feet in glee.

Occasionally something goes horribly wrong.

Recently Megan and I decided to walk the goats. She is more agile and a faster runner than I am, so she disappeared into the maze while I was still halfway down the hill, goats chasing behind me. Oh no! Megan got there first! She might eat all the good weeds! Speed up, brother! Faster! Desperate to reach the woods, Elliot plowed into me from behind, the full force of his seventy-pound caprine bulk impacting the back of my right knee, catapulting me into the air as he hurtled past. It was several minutes before I could haul myself upright, remember who I was and why I was lying in a field, and stagger to the trail where Megan was supervising two happily-munching goats.

"Megan!" I admonished my daughter. "Why didn't you come help me? Didn't you hear me calling for you when Ellie bowled me over?"

"Oh, was that you?" she asked. "I wondered what that loud whooomph sound was!"

And once again I ask myself, why do we have goats?


Tuesday, July 2, 2013

All the Way Home...

Nothing makes your pets appreciate you like going on vacation for a week. I did feel guilty leaving them home, but not even I could face seven hours in a minivan with a pair of malcontents plus I'm fairly certain they would hate the beach. Eek! Our feet are getting wet! We despise this dune grass! Where are all the trees??

Still, we missed them, and when we arrived home I sat in the yard with Em and Ellie and tried to tell them all about our trip. Mostly, though, I just wanted a snack and a long nap. But why are you so hungry and tired, Mommy?

Ok, boys, here's why I'm tired. We had decided to get up at six this morning to beat the weekend traffic on the way home. So, when Daddy shook me awake, I stumbled out of bed and headed toward the kitchen for coffee. Odd that it would be pitch dark - I wanted one last look at the ocean - why is sunrise so late today? And why does every other clock in the house read four o'clock?? 

Munching on cereal, Mike tried to argue with me, because after all the bedroom clock did say six, but I was certain I was right. I guess when he set the alarm the night before, he must have advanced the time setting accidentally. That's why I'm sleepy, boys...

And why are you so hungry? Well, in my foggy state I started throwing last-minute things in bags to go down to the van, making sure to pack a bag of snacks for the trip as Mike does not like to stop for any food that involves getting off the interstate or even crossing to the other side of the road. I sent that bag down with one of the kids to put in the passenger seat for easy access, as well as a small final bag of trash from the kitchen and bathroom for the curb. You guessed it...

About three hours into the trip, I reached down for the snack bag - a bag which actually contained soggy paper towels, apple cores, moldy grapes and used band-aids...oh, no. All I can hope is that the men who collected our trash are enjoying their treats!

It is good to be home.