A few weeks ago I received a call from a neighbor who owned a small herd of goats.
The conversation went as follows: “Mary, we have been called to do mission work. We would like to find new owners for our goats and thought of you first… .” Mark went on to explain that he wanted someone “who knew what they were doing” to take their girls under new wings.
We needed no more goats. No more animals. But, could I say no? After talking with my loving partner, we take great strides in making these types of decisions together, we decided we could move the goats to our new barn. We were honored to help.
Why the move to new barn? The girls are pregnant. They are used to being with each other, not my herd. The code of goats: decide the pecking order upon arrival. That simply wouldn’t be a good choice for a pregnant goat.
I’ll openly tell you what my husband said today, “The goats get to live at the new place before we do.” He wasn’t complaining. Neither am I.
These girls are nothing special. If you look close enough you can see their shaggy coats (between winter and spring they tend to look scraggly). Some of the goats are a boer mix, some resemble more of a spanish type.
But these ladies do come with a history. They all produced kids in an embryo program. Yes, they were recipient does for a very well known program.
I am glad they have been retired from their prior position. And, by the way, they were treated with dignity and care. I visited that establishment years ago. I was amazed by the outstanding animal treatment (frolicking kids/spoiled dams), plentiful knowledge, and beautiful animals.
So, we wait for births. The first in the new barn. As the girls definitely came large with kid’s in tow.