Archives - Posts tagged as 'goats'
Goat estrusPosted September 7th
Ok. Here's the story. About 10 days ago, I was puttering around the house--feeding the rabbits, washing the dishes, putting grain in Bebe's milk stand so I could milk her--when I heard Bebe yelling. I ran downstairs because this was an odd sound. I thought maybe the turkey had attacked her. At the gate, Bebe lunged. Bilbo seemed especially concerned. So I let them out, and Bebe raced up and down the stairs like a crazy goat. Then, I hate to report: Bilbo mounted her, made this unbelievably clownish face and stuck his tongue out like the devil. Sick. It didn't last long. Meanwhile, Orla was making horrible bleating noises. This went on all day, and then for a few more days. My poor neighbors. Bilbo is just so in love.
Most dairy goats go into estrus at the end of summer through early winter, every 18-21 days. If they're bred, they'll carry for 5 months and give birth in the spring. With Dwarf Nigerians like Bebe, they actually can breed all year 'round. This most recent cycle must have been her first since having Orla. I'm hoping to breed her in December for a May arrival of babies. So it'll be a little loud around here every three weeks, I guess.
A few days after all this noise, I was down in the chicken house trying to convince the new chickens to roost there when I heard some goat noises again. I looked up on the stairs and the goats were looking West. Our neighbor two doors down, a young Vietnamese mom, was yelling, "Baaahhh," and laughing her ass off. The goats returned her call. Neither the goats nor the lady knew I could see them--so I waited in the ...
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Aged goat cheesePosted August 14th
You'd think I wouldn't have enough milk to make cheese. But the little bit I get each day from Bebe adds up and then I have to make something. I'll toss a tablespoon of yogurt into a quart of milk, warm it up--and voila! a quart of yogurt.
Or, the other day, my postal carrier told me about something called cajeta. He often drops off the mail and then we talk about food--spit-roasted rabbits, steamed pumpkin drizzled with honey and mashed up with goat milk. Cajeta was goat milk slowly cooked with sugar until it became a caramel-y goo. The way he was drooling, I knew it had to be good. I had two cups of milk, so I decided to go for it. I had to stir the milk and sugar for an hour. Luckily, Bill was in an expansive mood so we talked and I stirred. The result was a gloppy goo--dulce de leche, great straight out of the jar.
I also made an order through Caprine Supply. Got a hobble, udder wipes, an iodine dip, and cheese molds. I tried making my own out of plastic containers drilled with holes, but they kind of sucked. Armed with these new molds, I hoarded milk and made cheese.
The fresh, triangular stuff turned out nicely. Creamy and light.
Because I had hopes to make aged cheese, I ordered some penicillin culture too. After the cheese firmed up, I started spritzing it with the white mold culture. It formed a rind after a few days left out (but covered to prevent flies).
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Goat smellsPosted June 10th
At the edge of the room in our apartment that I call the mudroom, the room where we milk Bebe, store tools, keep seeds, make vinegar, house crusty jars of canned goods, right where the door opens onto the backyard, lingers an odor of Farm. Bill's even noticed it. I've wondered where exactly it emanates because I harvest the goat turds and sawdusty clods of urine every morning before milking. Then I saw Bilbo pee on the back porch. Ah-a! Goat pee plus wooden deck plus sunlight. It's an unbearably delicious smell as far as I'm concerned. It means good things, to me. Maybe I'm remembering my parent's farm in Idaho or an old goat barn visited in the 1970s. The odor to my mind speaks of good things--goat cheese, dirt dappled potatoes, thick slices of multi-grain bread. Promises of coffee ground with a handmill in the morning, and marijuana smoked in the evening. Of course those days are gone, and we've all gotten over those silly pleasures, right? I guess some of us have not.
This past weekend I took Orla and three rabbits to Berkeley Fun Fair. The Berkeley Farmer's Market manager asked me to bring some baby animals for the kids to pet, to be a one woman band of urban farming.
When I arrived, I unfurled my ghetto fence made of chicken wire and wooden stakes, put Orla on a leash, and sat under a tree. So many kids and their parents came up and told me stories about having farm animals, some of them in the city! Of wanting their kids to grow up knowing animals. One little girl cradled a baby bunny, and I told her it ...
Let the cheesemaking beginPosted May 26th
In my squalid kitchen, cheesemaking has officially begun! More than two years ago I ordered chevre culture from New England Cheesemaking Company, promptly stuck it in my freezer, and forgot all about it. I had just befriended a guy in Berkeley who had goats and I had delusions of getting milk from him. It didn’t happen. But now, oh now, I can finally make my own.
But it’s not like I have an excess of milk. I’ve resorted to milking Bebe only once a day (Fiasco Farm said she does this, with healthy results, for over 10 years). Just as I get less milk from my Nigerian Dwarf goats, who work great in small backyards, I don’t mind getting less milk if it means I don’t have to milk twice a day. It’s not like I’m in the cheese business! I let Orla, Bebe’s daughter have access to her mom during the day (she’s milking for me!) and pen her up at night so I get the morning milk.
So, it took me four days to stockpile half a gallon of Bebe’s sweet, creamy milk. The directions on the chevre package said to add one packet to a gallon of milk, so I just heated up the milk to 86 degrees, and sprinkled in what looked like half the package. It was hard to see four days worth of milk used in an experiment like this. What if it didn’t work?
For 12 hours, the cheese set up in an undisturbed area. I heard that the culture can be finicky, so I didn’t peek at all. That night, when I finally looked into the bowl, the milk had pulled away from the sides and had two distinct layers: there was just this ...
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Goodbye Georgina, hello bunniesPosted May 10th
Took my goat to work yesterday. Georgina melted everyone's heart and a few people offered to buy her. This bodes well for my future in Nigerian Dwarf goat trading.
I held her on my lap for most of the day, where she slept curled up in a cuddly ball. Then her new owner met me at the station and took her away, back to Lake County, where she had been conceived. She'll get to be around her half-sisters and brothers, and I'm sure she'll have a great life. I can't wait to see photos of her in 4-H competitions, where I'm sure she'll win all kinds of prizes.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Bebe doesn't seem to miss her baby, though her sister seems a bit lonely. I plan on holding her a lot, and milking Bebe more often, to take the place of Georgina.
In other baby animal news, here are the newest batch of bunnies! Six of them.
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Which goat?Posted May 6th
I've been staring at the goatlings' backsides lately. They have little tiny udders. I simply can't believe it! They're only two months old, but they're becoming little ladies.
Anyway, I had a bit of a Rumpelstiltskin moment when Bebe's former owner emailed me, asking for photos of the doelings--front, side, and back. They were taking their doe from the buy-back agreement we had made when I bought Bebe, all preggers. I thought the family only wanted a doeling who was polled (without horns) but it turned out they wanted to take Orla or Georgina, dependent on their backsides, because the family wants to show the goats in 4H and other Nigerian Dwarf shows.
When I look at Orla and Georgina, I guess I know that Georgina is a better looking goat--she's got a straight back and long legs. So it wasn't a surprise when the family decided they wanted Georgina. The mom explained:
"She is a lot more level across her topline, her rump is less steep, she has more width accross her chest, and she has a wider escutchen." The escutcheon is an index for milking--the wider the better milk production.
But Orla is (truth be told) my favorite because she's so docile and sweet. So we are all happy! The mom said it was a hard choice because both of the girls turned out really nice. And she predicted that next year, after I breed Orla, I'll have more milk that I can handle. She said Bebe's offspring often milk out 3.5 pound of milk! That's almost a gallon! And, Orla's got a suitor with blue eyes just waiting for her.
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Goat updatePosted March 27th
For those of you who can't snuggle up to the little goaty ones, here's a photo that attempts to get close enough that you can. almost smell their heads (grassy with a touch of milk).
The whole family loves our back stairs. I realized we have a pretty good set-up because the goats get their exercise running up and down the stairs all day. And lately the little ones set up camp in a secret spot between the roof and the back porch. It's the perfect nook that probably appeals to their cave-dwelling instincts.
A goatlings day involves drinking from Bebe, playing, eating a little bit of grass, taking a nap, peeing, eating, then making tiny yellowish orange turds, then more napping. At night they sleep in a straw-lined caged run with Bebe and Bilbo.
This chicken wants to know why she isn't getting as much attention. So many reasons.
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Birth storyPosted March 19th
I woke up at dawn to the turkey gobbling. This is fairly normal. He gobbles like a rooster crows—in the morning and throughout the day. It’s driving us crazy. But he was gobbling over and over again, a danger gobble! So I ran downstairs and Bebe came running up to me, bleating and looking at me with distress. Tail up. That’s always a sign of pending birth. But I thought it wouldn’t be for another two weeks! Luckily, I’m obsessive, so I had all the supplies—the iodine, the petroleum jelly, gloves, towels, bottles, colostrum, beet pulp and oats—ready to go.
I gave Bebe her favorite snacks of jade plant, Heart to Heart flakes, and apple, then went back to bed. I had a dream that she had four tiny babies and one of them was a cow.
A few hours later not much had happened—I went to a meeting--but Bebe was still bleating every five minutes or so. I didn’t see her dialated or anything. So I went out to do some errands. Got a new tire for the truck, bought some plants and seeds. When I arrived home I went directly to the backyard, and saw a streak of gold and white.
Two adorable babies! Still wet, and covered with goo. Bebe had the afterbirth hanging out her backside. She was patiently licking her kids clean, and making wonderful deep bleating noises, which they would answer with high-pitched calls.
After a bit of staring and feeling tremendously good, I crawled into the pen and helped Bebe out a bit—washing off their ...
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