Notes on Goat Labor

(List of Notes at bottom of post)

So we've been watching this gal for weeks.

And we've noticed many of the signs of impending labor:

Her udder bagged up about two weeks ago.

(They can "bag up" or fill up with milk anywhere from a month to seconds before labor)

Her belly started dropping.

(They carry the kids up high for most of the pregnancy, then drop 'em lower a couple days before labor. You know this has happened when you start to see a sunken area above the baby bulge.)

Her ligaments were loosening.

(Any guide to goat labor will tell you ALLLL about how the tail ligaments disappear.)

But nothing happened. For days.

When I checked on her and all the other goats this morning, it was business as usual. Grazing, resting in the shade, no babies. Darn. Maybe tomorrow?

Around noontime we get a call from our uncle who was doing some work from us.

There's a baby in our pasture!!! Yay!!!

I immediately run outside, straight for the pasture. Barefoot, through the bee-filled clover, up over the fence, through the sticker weeds. Yup. I should've thought that through. But I was so excited to meet the new baby.

When I first came upon the two, I was a bit worried. I didn't realize she had just had this kid. He was still slimy, his cord wrapped around his back a little, and Dolly (mama) was barely cleaning up.

Last year, her first freshening, she wasn't the best of moms. She hardly let her twins nurse (one of them adopted a different doe as her mom. lol) and was awful on the milk stand. Last year, I had to help the kids to their first colostrum and even carry to her the kid that she walked off and left right after birth.

Ugh. First fresheners.

So, I was skeptical. …Okay, worried!

But instead, she was amazing. Fabulous. Redeemed.

Upon my arrival, Dolly immediately went about chewing away the cord and eating the rest of the slime. She talked to little Felix the whole time. It's really sweet the way the mumble and chatter to the kids.

Silly Felix, though. Within the first few hours of his life, as we observed him, Felix has already shown a great deal of personality! He's a bold little dude, if a bit confused. He spent a good five minutes pecking at his mom's chest and trying to nurse her collar before he found her teat. He hobbles around, but is sturdier at this point than any other kid we've had.

About an hour after first finding him, I went back out to see how he was doing. We like to give mom and kid plenty of bonding time, so we check up periodically and try not to get in the way too much. Which is hard to do. I mean, really, really hard.

When I went out this second time, I sat criss-cross-applesauce beside the two. Felix was already hobbling to and fro, learning how to use his legs. He comes up to me and I pet his little head. Next thing I know, he climbs into my lap and starts trying to nurse my fingers, my shirt, whatever he can get his little mouth on!

Such silly goats.

So, about those notes, right?

1. You may have noticed I never mentioned dipping the cord, wiping down the kid, or helping him find the teat. At Heart of the King farm, we "assist" as little as possible and only as much as necessary. We feel it only makes sense to allow nature to do as nature does, and it is in the doe's nature to take care of her baby in all those ways. Granted, if a kid or mom does have issues, we will address them. We aren't negligent.
2. Waiting for your goat to kid is painful. You can't wait to see it, hold it, pet it's little nose. But you have to, and it's hard.
3. And it's only made worse by all the differentiating signs of labor. Some are obvious and mean within a couple  day (those I wrote out at the top). Those that mean very soon can be a lot harder to understand. Some goats get super friendly or noisy as they go into labor. Others get quiet and go off to themselves. Some never give any distinguishable sign. 
4. That means you may walk outside to a new set kids, or sit and wait while your goat tells you all about what's going on, but at least you're there and can help if things go awry.
5. If things do go awry, this link explains basically any version of awry and can help.
6. Once the kid(s) are born, all you really need to do is make sure their cord isn't dragging on the ground as they walk, and make sure they get milk. You'll know if anything else is wrong. It will be obvious.

So, that's it! 

-Katie

Experimenting with Goat Hobbles

So, while exploring Pinterest and checking out different blogs about farming and homesteading, I found a little gem called Granny's Best. It's a lovely blog following the adventure of owning and operating a Goat Dairy and Creamery.

While I was exploring and pinning from the blog, I came across a really cool idea to help with does that kick and jump around on the milk stand: velcro goat hobbles.

I've never heard of hobbles before and especially not this way of making your own. Goat hobbles are like handcuffs that go around the goat's upper back legs to keep them from moving. These velcro ones are made from cattle leg bands.

I was so excited! I have one especially difficult doe who is due soon, and I entirely related with the story on the blog. So I immediately ordered a set of ten (neon pink!) leg bands from Amazon.

When the package came in the following tuesday, I had forgotten all about the hobbles. There were chores to be done and other projects to take over my thoughts. But when I opened the box and saw the leg bands my excitement was renewed.

Our milkstand that my Daddy built. Roomy enough to fit two does. We use a lead rope to tie the goats off.

I went out to the barn and prepared the milk stand for its first usage in a few months. Then, I dragged in our stubborn, very round doe Dolly.

The way these velcro hobbles work is two bands around the legs are bound together by another band in between. I figured I would strap one not too tightly around each back leg just above the pastern, then strap those two bands together.

Bad idea!

I wrestled with my doe, holding her legs still, forcefully pulling her back up when she laid down, strapping the bands too loose and yelling at her when she popped them off. It was a bad experience for both of us.

I threw my hands in the air. Forget it! We'll just butcher her in the fall. (Our usual angry response to naughty critters. :P)

Dolly

I went inside. I visited Pinterest. I went outside. I did some gardening. I refilled the rabbits' waters. Then, I went back out to the barn to try the hobbles again.

I figured I would start with a much more chill goat. My wether Dobby, who we really are butchering in the fall, is also known as Chillax because of how laid back he is. What I forgot is that he doesn't have a collar, has never been tied off before, and panics when he's alone. He just seems laid back in the comfort of his pasture and herd.

After noticing his lack of collar, I retrieved the lead rope we use to tie goats to the stand and looped it around his neck, clipping it to itself. That's when any semblance Dobby had to his alter ego "Chillax" was gone.

Dobby

He hated the idea of being lead. He refused to move, forcing me to either drag him or push from behind, then he'd jolt forward randomly, going exactly in the wrong direction. When I finally got him on the stand he danced around like a tap dancer, stomping and never standing still. I gave up. I dragged/pushed him back into the pasture.

Goodness, I just realized what I bad person this makes me sound like. Hopefully fellow goat people understand. Please?

Okay, it's time to do what I should've done from the beginning. I go fetch my best doe and kindest milker Raini. She actually squats when i touch her udder which makes milking that much easier.

The lead rope I used on Dobby is usually tied o the milk stand at a perfect length to hold the goats where they need to be and not allow the goats to move, but when I walked Dobby out, I had to use the lead rope, and when I brought in Raini, I switched the lead rope to her.

As I walked up the center aisle of the barn, my best doe at my side, I watch from the other end of the barn our miniature pony walk in through that gate, into our open feed room, and from there into the adjacent chicken coop!

Jazamin

I hurriedly tied the goat to the milk stand, allowing a long length for her to move around with. I run into  the feed room and I hear a noise behind me. The goat jumped off the milk stand and couldn't move because she was still tied to it at an awful angle. But she's not choking. So she isn't the priority.

I chase the pony into the coop, and when I enter I slow down. The pony is more or less scared of us and we've been keeping her in our backyard. Also , we keep a halter and lead rope on her for easy, gentle catching. Just grab the lead rope off the ground.

I do so, and as I walk the horse back to the backyard I see Dobby, back in the barn, heading in the same direction. Ugh! I had left that gate open, too.

I led the horse into the back yard and preceded to chase down, grab, and drag by the horns that darn goat. It sounds mean, but please, you have to understand, there was no other way! It's hot outside, the heat of the day in the prairie sun, and my stress and frustration levels were skyrocketing.

I finally get Raini back on the milk stand properly, and we actually have a nice time. She ties off without a problem, just stands there. I treat her to a little sweet feed and touch her udder. She squats for me. I love this goat.

I play with the cattle bands for a while, trying to figure out a faster way to get them on the goat. Then, I got it.

Instead of tying them first to the goat's legs then together, prepare the middle link by making it into a loop, about an inch, inch-and-a-half in diameter. Then strap that loop to the first leg. Then to the other leg. Wa-lah!

Getting it on the second leg is harder because the goat doesn't want to bring it's legs so close. You could make the middle band wider, but the wider it is, the more motion it allows the doe. Another mistake I made was attaching the hobbles just above the pastern. They really need to be above the hocks.

So it all worked out for the best. I walk my best doe back out to the pasture and decide to take some pictures. I realize I left my camera at the milk stand and run back to get it, leaving the gate open. When I turn back, Raini is gone!

She had made a quick run for the rabbitry (where I had left the door open!) while my back was turned. Ugh.

Oh well, all's well that ends well. And it did end well. All the critters were put in the proper place, the hobbles were figured out, and I walked around the barn and closed all the gates and doors.

So, lessons learned:
          1) Always have patience. If it's going to happen, it will. Don't get so frustrated.
          2) AND ALWAYS CLOSE THE BARN DOORS! Lol. For real, though.

-Katie

Day of the Corn

Look at all that corn!

It probably doesn't seem like it, but there's about 4 bushels there.

We spent only an hour shucking the corn, and I say only because we pretty much spent the time playing with the goats and sheep. We had let them into the front yard with us so we could monitor them and throw them the shucks.



Betty steals from the chicken scraps.



After a while (a very, very small while) the critters came to us for the shucks, and demanded to eat the shucks by our feet and not those thrown aside for them.

Then, they discovered the chicken scrap bowl where we had dropped green tops.



Dodge slobbering corn all over the place.



It went down hill from there. We fed scrap corn directly to the critters, they were in our laps, and were helping themselves by eating shucks as we shucked them. But it was all good fun any way, and we began to "dress" any nearby victims in corn shucks and silk. 



Caspian wearing a shuck. What a cutie!



Angus in a silky 'do.

Caspian wearing silk.

 It wasn't too long before all the corn was shucked, and we brought it in.

Then, the real work began.

Corn was washed, trimmed, and- no clue what it's called- removed of kernels.

We pressure canned a final total of 5 half-pints, 36 pints, and five quarts. That's just under 9 gallons of corn kernels. We only had one canner going and finished at five am the next morning. Mind you, I then slept till noon.

It doesn't sound like a lot of work. I know it doesn't. But it took all day, and we have at minimum a years supply of corn on our shelves. I'm just thankful for this corn, for knowing where it came from, for knowing what it took, and for being able to do it ourselves.



Freshly shucked corn.



New Kid on the Block

The New Kid Sebastian

Our intentions in owning goats were always been clear: milk and meat. We had a great, simple plan in mind. We’d have our handful of milkers, a buck or two, and when kidding time came we’d decide who we may keep, who we may sell, and all the little boys would be wethered and sent off to freezer camp.

It was foolproof. Nice and easy.

And it really is. This year we had 7 kids and 3 lambs. Four kids and two lambs are going to the freezer this fall. We’ve already had tastes of both meats (some annoying wethers we got from neighbors a few years back and a yearling ewe who was having problems), and enjoyed it.

The two lambs have a huge daddy and are already bigger than their mommas. They’re bulking up quite nicely. But, the kids. They’re daddy’s a Nubian and they’re momma’s are all dairy breeds. So even though they aren’t truly skinny, they aren’t quite bulky either. It’s not too big a deal- they’ll still be good eats. It’s just not ideal.

So, we contacted a nice lady who owns Tennessee Fainters, a meat breed. We scheduled the day, found a good time, and drove up to get the little boy, and the solution to our problem. The plan is to still use the dairy mammas who produce great milk, and have half-meat kids that are better suited for dinner.

I’ve never dealt with fainters before, and I honestly expected to faint more easily than they did. (The whole time we were there only one froze up- and it was just her hind legs as our truck rolled up.) Call me an amateur, but I might as well have expected a penny dropping to flip them over.

Anyway, we stood outside the pasture fence, and she showed us our options. I had our little buck picked out before my mom could get a word in edgewise. He had horns (which I just then learned grew to be like those really cool cashmere horns!) which I wanted because of their beauty. And, he had remarkable blue eyes! Ah, the beauty of them!

Catching him was quite simple. The lady let us into her pasture, and tossed some feed. The little guy was between the fence and feeder and was trapped there by a bigger goat. I reached in and scooped him up, easy as that. I almost feel cheated out of my exercise. Goat chasing is the only real exercise I ever get. :P

Just look at those blue eyes! They’re sort of whitish, but so pretty! As a whole, the little buck is mighty handsome. We named him Sebastian.

The trip home was easy. He kept calling to his momma before we left, and then just flat calling as we drove away, but you can’t expect any different. Again, in my amateurism I expected the speed bumps and loudness of the city we went through to make him faint. He didn’t and I’m sort of proud of him.

In the picture, I was trying to pet on him, but it was a useless attempt. All he cared about was getting back to his herd. But that’s alright, we were taking him home to a new one.

I didn’t take too long to get home, and we let him loose into the barn where he could meet a few girls through the back gate (as well as some big, scary draft horses). We let another goat and a sheep in with him to provide company, and let him settle. 

 Isn’t he gorgeous!

Back In The Routine

Here recently, we've been slacking in our farm duties. Well, I shouldn't say slacking- there is always a LOT to do: picking veggies, caring for critters, and all that goodness. And we've done most of it.

But, there's that bit we haven't: milking.

I love fresh goat's milk. I even enjoy the satisfaction of milking, knowing where the milk came from and that my own two hands were a part of it. Sometimes I wonder how I got out of the routine. 

I guess I really do know. We let our kids nurse off their momma's, so we stop milking for a month or two or three... and then we get lazy. I get lazy. It's so nice to sleep in, you know? Then there's the hand cramps that come with getting your hands use to the rythm and movement of milking again. There's fighting the onery first fresheners who don't want to be milking. Fighting the hordes so you only bring in one or two goats at a time.

It's tougherthan it seems.

But, today that's changing. We moved the buck away from the gall's (to prevent musky tasting milk), and started the process. We're milking four goats this year, and bring them in two at a time. Mom with a big girl, and me with a small. It's done in no time, and things are as they should be.

Now, there's just the matter of not getting lazy again.