Until today, I had forgotten how grown bottle kids still root for a bottle.
Today I made some changes. I moved the last kids, a set of triplets, to the barn. Then I arranged pens so all of the bottle kids would be in one place at night.
After feeding and milking, my well-oiled plan began to fall through the cracks.
I sat down on a bucket to feed the bottle kids and along came Sarah.
Sarah is a grown boer goat (black headed) who was raised on a bottle 3 years ago. She is now a good mother. Sarah tried everything to get the bottle away from a kid I was feeding, including biting his ear.
Along came Amelie, a special case kid, who was on a bottle 2 years ago. As I bottle fed one kid, Amelie was right against my cheek with her nose, breathing hot air, blocking my view totally. I do love to feel a goat’s breath. It is pure life. Occasionally I wish I could pick and choose when I received the delights. Funny, huh?
Then along came Chameaqua. She recently gave birth for the 2nd time. She apparently hasn’t forgotten the bottle either. She ripped and tore through my nicely laid out supplies just to find a bottle for herself.
Are you laughing with me? I am.
I love animals too much. I will admit to it. It is terribly hard work. But, I still love it.