4.22.2010 I smell spring…. or is that just goat?

I think it has finally arrived.
Spring.  I packed away the winter wear yesterday.  I am still anxiously waiting
for Axis to kid.  She was in a stall all by herself this morning, but she’s been
out grazing with the herd all afternoon.  It’s misty and icky here, so I’m sure
it’ll be soon.  Goats are notorious for kidding in the worst of weather.
Something about the barometric pressure.  * I have to share a bit about Em.  I
am so proud of her.  She is one of the girls we got this winter when we found
ourselves without enough does in milk and had to scramble to find more.  She
came from a lady in Kerrville who has been raising nubians forever, but doesn’t
bother with any of the paper work.  She has a special license and provides milk
to the hospital in this area, if I understand correctly.  She has to take her
goats in and have them checked for diseases every week.  Anyway, we bought Em
and Glowbug from her.  They came as a pair.  The yin to the yang, that’s for
sure.  Glow is real laid back and mellow.  A big scittish at first, but she’s
overcome that.  Em, on the other hand, is the most dominant goat I’ve ever met.
She’ll blow right past you, or over you, just to do it.  She’s ornery, she’s
stubborn, she’s strong.  And she’s really pretty.  Which is her only redeeming
quality.  She’s not even that good of a milker.  She loves to kick the bucket
over just before you finish milking her out.  Such a jerk!  And every time we go
to milk, we do this stupid dance where she runs out of the barn and waits for us
to chase after her.  Then she runs back into the barn and over to the feed room
door.  She stands there and waits for us to walk over, take her collar, and
escort her into the milk parlour.  All the other girls just trot on over and hop
onto the stand.  Well, we have been dealing with this since January.  Then one
morning last week, I opened the door to the feed room, and Em did it.  She
simply walked over to the door of the milk parlour, waited for me to open it for
her, and calmly and cooly hopped onto the milk stand.  No bawling, no crying, no
running.  Like a perfect milker.  And she’s been doing it ever since.  I’m so
proud.  I guess she overheard Trey talking about cabrito . .

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