Our neighbor asked
us to tend to her goats and chickens while she was out of town. In return, we were welcome to all the milk and eggs we could eat....and one thing more: she would give us a goat of our very own!!!!
Our neighbor asked
Yeah, I know I promised you all that I'd be milking a goat in this episode but here's the thing: I suck at milking! I haven't felt this awkward around a female mammary since high school. I could consistently get one teat firing like a Howitzer while I annoyed the fuck out of the
goat by cranking on the other teat like a vintage Atari joystick (geeks: you're welcome). So I tended to the chickens while my Mystery Accomplice (who is much better at gentle stroking) saw to the goats. Here is what I learned:
No two people can consume 8 to 10 eggs a day. We made omelettes, we pickled a couple dozen, we created new recipes for quiche, we gave away two dozen in....um...an illicit transaction. We still have fucking eggs!
Goats like to be milked.....again, after the initial gallon or so, we had all the milk we needed but the goats REALLY need to be milked (judging by the plaintive bleating) so the half gallon-a-day or so went to the barn cats, usually. Here is the procedure:
goat cries like a baby...open milking station door to allow goat to barrel through (cacophony of cats ensues). Insert goat head through what looks like the business end of a guillotine. Pour "sweet feed" grain mix to distract goat during milking process. This strategy worked perfectly with "Carob", the older and tamer of the goats. "Laila Jane" (Appalachian for "demon-witch"), on the other hand, happily put her head in the orifice and ate the grain, all the while kicking and dancing like a raver's first time on E.
Long story short: the goats got milked, the chickens got...deprived of progeny and mildly annoyed... and we got a goat! Her name is Matilda and she is shy and cute and damned to my callous awkward hands for the remainder of her natural life.