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Discussion in 'Goat Frenzy' started by MyGoatsAreWeirdDogs13, Jan 26, 2021.
I guess boys will be boys...goofy.
Reminds me of a similar experience with a mini Alpine and a barn style 2 piece dog house. The Monks had been playing King of the House for quite a while and I later noticed a goat standing on the overturned bottom half and couldn't see the top half. Of course this meant a trip to check out what in the world was going on with the goats.
Quick head count and the Alpine was missing. Heart started beating fast while my eyes were scanning the outer perimeter because the pieces were close to the fence. Oh geesh, where could he be? Calling out his name while checking stalls and the outer side, I hear a low maaa maaa in answer.
But no Alpine, anywhere. Maaa maaa, then a head sticks out from underneath the top section. I swear it looked like a white shelled giant turtle and thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Little goober stuck his head back in and of course I go rushing over just knowing he must be stuck or something.
Lifted off the top to rescue him and was rewarded with a "how dare you" look of displeasure for disturbing him in his secret hiding place. Placed both pieces in another location farther from the fence and before I got out of the gate, he had scooted himself back underneath while the ND's carried on with their game of King of the Dog House Bottom.
These are all my show goats
This is me with my breeding doe
This is my newest Boer show goat he’s the one I’ll be showing in 12 days at county
Wow beautiful looking Boers @Justaffagirl
That's hilarious! Reminds me of an Igloo doghouse I had one time. My big ol' Nubian buck, my quite hefty wether, and a doe were all in the same pen (buck was supposed to be breeding the doe, but she wouldn't stay in unless my wether was there, too). Anyhow, I thought the existing house I had in that pen might be a little small for 3 goats, so I hauled in our Igloo. My thinking was, 2 goats will go in the larger house, 1 can go in the Igloo. I go out the next morning to see my buck's hindquarters hanging out of the opening of the Igloo. I get closer, and see that my wether's in there, too. The wether sees me and scrambles out through this small doorway, over the TOP of the buck, who's also trying to get out, but can't back up fast enough. The doe is sitting in the big house all by herself.
I've got five goats at the moment. I am raising and milking Nubian dairy goats, so they earn their keep, but they're also beloved pets who help keep me physically fit and (in)sane.
Josie is my herd queen. She is independent, but affectionate. She likes to stand next to me and breathe heavily in my ear. Or lick my nose. She is a wonderful, wonderful mama, and cares for my other doe's kid, too.
Pippi is highly dramatic. She was a bottle baby, and it took her a long time to realize she's actually a goat, not a person. If anything is wrong, she will let you know. She will carry things around in her mouth, like a dog. She tosses her feed dish if she doesn't like what I've given her .
Kip is Pippi's baby. He won't be staying here long-term, but I am enjoying his delightfully sweet and saucy personality and mischievous little face. I was going to keep him and breed him to Josie this fall, but my nieces have been talking like they may want him, so he may go live with their does.
Finn is my buck. Kip gets the mischievous face from him. When he's not trying to breed everything in sight, Finn will lay his head against me and I'll wrap one arm around his head and scratch his throat with my hands. This sends him into a euphoric bliss. It also sends my friends away, gagging, as I reek of buck.
Huck is my wether. He is a goat of mysterious parentage. He is incredibly stubborn, leading him is like trying to lead a Sherman tank. But he always comes when I call, and he will stand next to me and put his chin on the top of my forehead so I can scratch his wattles. He cries like a baby whenever I have to leave him in his pen. I have considered just letting him free range, as he is so attached, but he is not nice to dogs and occasionally, other people, so he's better off where he is.
I will be buying some more does soon, so you can bet I'll be sitting in the pen, drinking my morning coffee and getting acquainted with them, too.
If I get pack goats, that'll be on my bucket list!
My flock of 5 are HORRIBLE egg layers and hate my guts (except, sometimes, for our california white hen, Speckles. She's my favorite. I have a harness for her). I don't know why my dad lets us keep them, but we do still have them and love them to pieces.
A chocolate brown smiling goat.
Where can I get one!?
When I get my own land, I want to get one of the weeping willows that have a MASSIVE trunk and branch out from the bottom. I'll carve a goat shelter into the base, and make ledges on the branches. I'd love to put hay bags all around, but if it were my goats, they'd only pay attention to the willow leaves.
And maybe a cheeseburger if I put one up there.
Now that's some of the best therapy out there.
In your case, at least. Jimmy and Snickerdoodle are TERRIBLE listeners.
@Caileigh Jane Smith I love names Huck and Finn!
Sounds like a nice family of goats you have!
I thought I was the only one who gave my goats accents in my head
Post the baby photos, please! I'm kind of a baby goat picture junky
I used to have a hen called Speckles, and she was a terrible egg layer, but very nice personality. She was the lead hen, but never needed to peck the others much. She was not particularly agile or fast, not a good flyer or layer, but she was a wonderful leader. (Unfortunately a hawk got her. I think she had a quick pain free death.)
Thanks! My goat names have to be short, and easy to call across the pasture. And fit their personalities, too.
Reminds me of a time where I thought my goats ran off.
One morning, I go to my barn. I planned to hang out there for the day, and wanted to let my goats out of the barn.
But when I open the stall door, no goats come running out.
So, I call my buddy in the neighborhood nearby (which I also live in). He had his cousins over, and when I called him, he put me on speaker with them. They all said they hadn't seen Jimmy and Snickerdoodle. And right as I'm about to hang up...
Out trots Snickerdoodle from the barn with a stuck-up smug look on her little dorky goat face.
That got me halfway to my goal, and the nickname (from my buddy's cousins) The Boy Who Lost His Goats.
Then I hear this weird half bleat, half scream. That's Jimmy's get-me-outside cry.
He was stuck in a horse's stall the whole night.
Moral of the story?
Goats are jerks.
HELP I just walked outside to see all the goats and there was a full white Nubian/Boer baby I DONT EVEN HAVE A NUBIAN BUCK OR A NUBIAN DOE I don’t know how this happened you can see the Nubian in he ears and some of her face you can also see the Boer