Tonight we loaded Sassy and Swamp Thing into the back of the Tundra, along with five bales of hay, and dropped them off at their temporary digs. I am not sure what they thought.

One minute they were in their pen, wondering when I was going to get around to feeding them, and the next minute they were eyeball to eyeball with twenty-or-so other goats, some of whom were tethered by leash like leads to white plastic igloos.

The owners of these goats, who are very nice people, are aware that they are in over their heads. This is the reality. In order to have goat milk, you have to have goat babies. Most goats give enough milk for a year. Then you have to breed them again. And you have to find homes for the babies. That’s the hard part.

We put them in a shelter that has a roof, a chain link enclosure, and I told them we’d be back. I don’t know if Swampy believed me. Sassy was by then more interested in checking out Cash, a white buck who was tied up about 50 feet from their pen.

Sassy may have been thinking that in being bred to him, she might find a purpose in life. Swampy had been down this road before, and so she showed no interest in the fellow, not even when he flipped his upper lip and then turned and showed him her very impressive scrotum.

Seeing that many goats in one place, I decided that it would be best to breed just one of our pair to Cash. I just don’t want to end up with two dozen goats here. I want to breed Swampy one more time, and then breed Sassy. I want to breed pure alpines. Swampy might produce good offspring if she has part Nubian babies. This would be an instance of hybrid vigor.

I want to train Sassy to pull a cart. I also want to resume doing agility with her. My problem is one of time. It’s been a good few days here, getting stuff done around the place. Problem is, the book project has become a ball and chain around my lower leg. Tonight we went in to see if my raincoat was there and took in the sight of many, many books.

Robert may have gone to Title Wave a day early. A local bookstore gave us all their discards. And there were a few private donations. I took 45 minutes and I sorted a dozen boxes of books. I know what the volunteers do not, which is that if you don’t keep up with the sorting, it will turn around and bite you in the ass.

So now we do have things pretty much in order around here. Thank dog the dogs and horses are going with us. If I miss the goats this much, I can only imagine how much I’d miss the other animals. The chickens, they will be fine here.

Next: 154. 6/6/24: June 4, 2024