There is a nice delusion out there, one that wistfully paints this picture of a relaxing homestead, where things grow and flourish in the utmost peace and beauty. This picture never seems to include all of the poop…..or worse.
Our goat Honesty is a first year freshener (meaning this was her first year milking). She did not handle being moved so well, oh she’s sweet as can be, but she dried up on us. It’s understandable.
We love her anyway.
However, now we need to focus on breeding her. She must get pregnant in order to make a baby. She must have the baby in order to make milk, so that we can all partake. Our little goat Charity is due to be bred in December, but we were told Honesty should be bred in October.
October is RAPIDLY approaching.
The teenage farm goddess that we bought these goats from is all knowledgeable and awesome in dairy goat stuff. She offered her buck services. Okay. So when do I bring my goat to you, just let me jot it down on the calendar.
Oh wait, what, I can’t just schedule breeding?!!!!!
So how, um, how exactly do I know when to bring my lady goat to your male goat?
I have to WHAT?!!!
Oh I have to check for discharge…….GAG.
Yup, this was most definitely not in that wistful picture.
I do NOT want to be all up in my goat’s crotch thank you very much. Argh, but I do want to be a responsible, um, mature homesteading goat owner. I do want milk. So, I must put my big girl boots on and do daily checks…..but I won’t refrain from making faces.
Homesteading will push you to your limits on gross out acceptance, and then it will laugh at you, and then push you even further.