How to Hypnotize a Goat

You may be wondering, why on earth would I want to hypnotize a goat? Just trust me on this one. Caprine hypnosis is not only possible but also useful, along with skills like stacking hay bales, giving injections, and wrenching off those bothersome scurs that plague my goats...

Remnants of horn tissue on a kid improperly disbudded (dehorned) at birth, Elliot's scurs persist despite two early sessions with a branding iron - a horrific experience I vowed never to repeat after holding him down for the second procedure when he was three months old. I can hope he has no memory of his shrill screams or the odor of burning flesh - so we live with scurs, which repeatedly sprout like little knobs and then curve wickedly downward toward his head. Every few months, or when one threatens to lacerate his skin, I ask my husband to sneak up behind him and wrench them off -  a technique requiring both surreptitious stalking and a sharp twisting motion I have never been able to master. (I can barely open a pickle jar, much less rip horns off a feisty goat!) Still...

Here's another fact. While goats enjoy any kind of affection, they absolutely love having their ears rubbed. You may think that Emerson (in the above photo) is displaying a heightened state of alertness by sticking his ears out like batwings, but he's really begging for an ear massage. Come on, human, can I make it any more obvious? Pleeeease... Here a kind owner would sit in front of him and grasp both ears (think - holding a pogo stick), then briskly rub the silky tops. Aaaahhh, bliss... A true animal lover might transport him to Goat Nirvana by rubbing the fleshy insides of his ears - which sounds revolting but actually I've found that ear slime washes off quite easily.

Last evening I was sitting in the shed with Em and Ellie for their bedtime routine (hot water, nightlight, lullaby...) when Ellie put his head on my knee and went all batwing. I obliged and stroked his ears - amused, then perplexed, as his eyes glazed over and he emitted little snoring sounds. No response to his name, no response to "want a cookie?" - could I? Dare I...? One hand still rubbing his ear, I gripped his right scur ever so gently, twist, pull - SUCCESS!! And he slept on...

To be fair, I must admit that a lack of the usual profuse bleeding makes me suspect that this one was already knocked loose. Still, Elliot is phobic about anyone touching a scur, so even getting my hand on it is a testament to his massage-induced hypnotic state.  You are feeling very sleepy...You will never poop in the shed again...Cold water is delicious...

Like I said - a useful skill!