Thursday, October 17, 2013

So, Bonita is Gone (romantic weekend away)

So Bonita left in the back of a pickup truck on Tuesday. The guys from Common Sense Farm came to deliver hay and since the goat pen is right next to the hay stash we started talking goat sex. If that comes across as jarring, let me explain. We were not discussing anything vulgar, just the breeding plans, does in heat, and all the normal stuff that comes along with goat sex. I have found out through this blog that to some people just saying the word "sex" instantly makes some people assume something dirty. It does. Goat sex is  filthy! Bucks pee on their legs, chest, and beard - they mount whatever is in heat in front of them. But just because something is sexual or messy doesn't make it immoral. Good grief. All farming at the basic level is dirt, sex, and death. The more you make these three things a normal part of your life the less patience you have for those who squirm at the subject. I say that with nothing but a smile in my tone, but it is a warning. A lot of folks who visit here are really drawn to goats and dairy, but not exactly thrilled about all the pee beards, the sex, the placentas, and the training involved to make a dairy operation in the backyard. It is a bit dodgy at times, but so what? What in life isn't uncomfortable sometimes? Most of the good stuff is.

Anyway, I asked if all their does were bred and Othniel explained that they were, or nearly. Since we both have indoor areas for our goats to breed comfortably (with the addition of headlamps and night watches) I am not worried about snow on the ground during the birthing process, specially with three kids under my belt from last year! So a late February birth is okay with me.

Bonita has been showing signs of being in heat, super friendly attitude combined with plenty of lip smacking, and excess bleating. The day I came back from showing an Indie Day guest around Common Sense's Dairy operation she nearly crawled on top of me at the smell of buck on my sleeve. Timing is everything when it comes to successful breeding, so I asked if I could bring Bonita down to their farm for a romantic weekend away. Othniel shrugged and said they could take her right there and then, and they did. Ida, her daughter, did not complain. She had her head sniffing around the chicken feeder and was jumping on hay bales when Bonita hit the open road.

So that story has started over again. Bonita is dry now and no milk is coming out of this farm. Yet there's a promise of a full udder in the spring, thanks to goat sex. I sent my girl away on a truck for a few days.  I'm not worried about her at all. Bonita is a brick house of sass and savvy. I am a little worried about their young buck though… That's a lot of woman for a guy who just started pissing on his face.

Ah, farming.