Mother's Day calf

We've been keeping two critters in our corral for the last week or so because they're close to calving. Lily is half-Jersey, half-Dexter; and Sparky is full Dexter. This will be a second baby for Lily but a first baby for Sparky.

It's always convenient if calves are born in the corral for two reasons; one, the animals have the shelter of the barn if they need it; and two, we can dehorn or castrate the calves without having to embark on a wild goose (calf?) chase across the pasture to capture them.

Anyway, we came home from our neighborhood potluck last night -- and saw that Lily had had her calf! She had just dropped it, and I mean just. The calf was still wet and hadn't gotten to its feet yet.

Altogether now: "Awwww...."

My parents flew in to visit last week and are staying in Coeur d'Alene. My Dad came in for last night's potluck, though my Mom wasn't feeling quite up to it. So Dad -- a city boy from birth -- got to see a newborn calf and he watched enraptured as the baby struggled to its feet and took its first nourishing meal of colostrum. He'd never seen a newborn calf before.

Lily spent a good deal of time licking her baby. This accomplishes three things: (1) it cleans the newborn; (2) it stimulates the baby's circulation; and (3) it familiarizes the cow with her baby's unique scent.

The rest of the herd was eager to catch a glimpse of the newcomer.

While we're not positive of the gender, the elegant long head makes me think it's a girl. Boys usually have shorter heads. Younger Daughter tentatively has named her Leto, after the Greek goddess of motherhood (since she was born on Mother's Day).

As a new mama, of course, Lily is fiercely protective of her baby. We kept our distance.

First attempt to struggle to her feet.

Careful now.... steady....

Not bad for a first try!

"Let's see... I know there's an udder around here somewhere..."

Getting wobbly...

Crash and burn.

Sparky, wildly curious about the baby, got too close...

...and was chased off.

"MY baby!"

Still wobbly but getting stronger.

Aha -- jackpot! All that good colostrum is getting inside.

What a nice Mother's Day gift for Lily.

I checked the calf this morning, and Leto looked strong and chipper and was nursing well.

Here's the dropped placenta, a good sign. (We'll dispose of this.)

An ever-watchful Lily.

First time in the barn.

Sparky still wanted to meet the baby...

...but Lily wouldn't have it.

Last night I noticed Victoria is bagging up too, so we pulled her into the corral (she's the red heifer). This will be Victoria's first calf as well.

See how bagged up she is?

Victoria has two supernumerary teats. These are harmless.

Looks like we'll have calves coming out our ears in the next couple of weeks!

Not convinced about goats

Here's an interesting counter-opinion about the value of goats (or cows) that was posted on Interviewing a Goat Farmer.
________________________

I'm just not convinced of the value of goats. I live in a part of the country where goats are fairly common. I could take you to 20 places near me where they have 2, 3, half a dozen goats. In every case they (the goats) live in squalor. They aren't milked or treated like pets or used for any purpose. They simply are caged inside small fenced pens lie around in the mud and occasionally the owner tosses some hay at them. I could also take you to goat frams where the goats are well taken care of and milked but these are of course "businesses" not a few goats on a homestead. Why goats? yes I am aware that they give milk but so does every store in the world. I may go camping for three days tomorrow, I may on a whim go to Ireland for a week, I travel in a motorhome for weeks at a time. Sometimes I just stay home and relax. With goats (or cow, pigs and dogs for that matter) I couldn't do any of that. And it's more then not wanting to be tied down by animals it comes down to for what? What can the goats offer me? I can live the rest of my life without ever consuming goat milk or cheese. I certainly have no desire to eat goat meat. I think goat owners (casual goat owners) have a need to own animals much like the cat women you read about with 40 cats living in a small singlewide trailer. To what end??

Interviewing a goat farmer

I just finished writing a massive -- and I mean massive (8600 words) -- article for Backwoods Home Magazine called The Home Dairy. I was asked to write something fairly comprehensive (which explains the article length -- it's a huge topic) and to be sure to include cows AND goats.

Well I know plenty about milking cows, but goats? Not so much. I needed to find someone who milked goats. Preferably I wanted someone who wasn't a commercial dairyist (since the article is geared toward the home milker), but even in north Idaho this turned out to be surprisingly difficult.

After a few inquiries, I connected with a delightful woman named Susan who -- despite my phone call out of the blue from a perfect stranger -- graciously invited me over to see her goats and her setup.

My goodness, Susan absolutely loves her goats -- and it was easy to see why. "Goats are very personable," she said. "It's like having dogs." At the moment she has about 35 animals -- Alpine, Saanan, Oberhasli, La Mancha, Nigerian Dwarfs, and some crosses. She sells kids but does no butchering. She's worked with 4-H for about 25 years and helps many local kids get started with their animals.

The portion of the barn I saw had a large open pen at the end (pictured above), a milking stand, and a series of kidding pens.

This lady is one of the milkers, whom Susan obligingly kept in the barn until I arrived so she could show me how she milked.

This is their homemade milking stand. As with most stands for goats, it's elevated for easier milking. It has a feed box on the other side of the headpiece. Susan milks twice a day but keeps the kids on the does. She milks anywhere from two to four animals, depending on how much milk she needs.

The headpiece is an area where goats can be locked in by the neck so they don't move around during milking. Susan and her husband built a clever one that slides in place...

...and locks in with a nail.

Here's one goat in place.

And two goats.

Look at those beautiful udders! Two teats, not four (like a cow). Gotta get used to that.

Susan milks from the side, with her left wrist braced against the doe's hind leg to keep her from kicking. Couldn't do that with a cow!

The strong hands of an experienced milker.

Susan gets about a half-gallon per milking per animal, or about a gallon a day per doe.

After showing me her milking setup, Susan let the herd loose.

She has beautiful property with a small stream running through.

It was enchanting to watch these beautiful animals frolic in the spring sunshine.

Hungry kids.

This is a breed of dog called an Akbash. He's the herd guardian.

Goats, being goats, like to climb things, so Susan keeps the logs from this fallen tree in the pasture for their amusement.

This little fella is a La Mancha, a breed with tiny ears.

This is the herd sire, also a La Mancha.

It was delightful becoming more acquainted with these wonderful dairy animals. While I love my cows, it's easy to see why Susan is so taken with goats.

My thanks to Susan for graciously sharing her knowledge with me.

"Bear Poop and Applesauce" is now available!

Have you ever wondered how on earth my husband and I ended up living the lifestyle we do? We didn't grow up farming. In fact, we had remarkably ordinary suburban lives until shortly after we were married. At that point we decided (to the dismay of our friends and families) to chuck it all and leave urban California and move into a shack in rural southwestern Oregon.

This story of our early years chronicles the first decade of country life, through the birth of our children, the beginning of our home woodcraft business, and the establishment of our early homesteading attempts.

Bear Poop and Applesauce is now available as an ebook through our ebook website, Self Sufficiency Series (dot com). The book is 188 pages in length and costs $9.95. I laid it out so (in theory) you can print it with two pages per sheet.

This book has been metaphorically languishing in my drawer for years, but we decided to put it up for sale now... with all proceeds to be used to pay off Don's hospital bills.

And how, you may ask, did we come up with the title? Well you'll just have to read the book to find out.

The journey begins...