Francis has number six

 This is Francis's first kid, but number six in six days to be born here.  He is a little baby giant - even a little larger than Molly's triplets even though the triplets are almost a week older.

Cocoa Puff with the five older kids

Francis and baby Frodo

closer look at Frodo

I started calling him Frodo last night, and hubby asked why.  I said, "He looks like he's trying to figure out why he's here and what he's supposed to be doing!"  Well, since we have a Frodo, then we need a Sam, and Molly's black and white boy is being a stubborn Sam.  I guess that makes Molly's firstborn son Bilbo, although I broke with that theme for Molly's daughter.  I call her Peggy Sue, like the old Buddy Holly song.  One of Puff's daughters has white back socks, so I think of her as ChiSox (Chicago White Sox from baseball) and the other girl, with the blue eyes, I think of as Cover Girl because she posed so perfectly the other afternoon.

Two more goat kids

 And just like that, the kid count jumps!  Cocoa Puff did her usual no-advance-notice and no-noise kidding maybe an hour ago.  She had twin girls again, upping her girls-only streak to six.  I told her she really ought to have a boy sometime soon.  I took a bottle out to make sure the new girls got some colostrum in them ... and the goat who drank the most from the bottle was Cocoa Puff.  I guess, "Once a bottle baby, always a bottle baby."  Not as many photos this time, mostly because Puff wanted to clean the camera as well as my arm.

blue-eyed girl

amber-eyed girl

the twin girls decide it is rest time

First goat kids of 2021

 While a month later than I originally thought, Molly has given birth to the first goat kids of 2021: triplets again, two boys and a girl.  Not easy trying to get all three kids in a picture, especially with Molly trying to chase off curious cats.

boy, girl, boy

two boys trying to figure out the meal plan

girl with pretty markings

girl and firstborn boy

girl boy boy

Molly nuzzling the kids

I think the girl is so pretty, as well as the second boy (black and white).  I expect Cocoa Puff to add to the total in a week or two, followed by Francis either at the end of the month or beginning of next month.

Goats again

More pictures of goats!

Hope looking away from the camera
(Maude in the background)

Molly's ear; Hope in back, Franklin's rump,
and Maude ducking under the chair

Molly wants to be the star of the photo shoot

Star, almost posing

Star on the bottle, Karl at far left

Stinker on the bottle - after four and a half weeks of resisting it

Star, with an expression like her great-grandmother Chocolate

Stinker (top) and Star (bottom) finally bottling

Prim and Brownie in the background,
Stinker and Star chugging bottles

did I mention these two didn't want to be bottle babies for the first month?

Karl, Molly's rejected firstborn

Maude on left, Franklin also scratching his rump,
with Cocoa Puff  in the shelter

Cocoa Puff, Molly's triplets - Maude and Karl in the midground,
Franklin and little Hope back by the shelter

Franklin and Hope, when she was tiny

Maude and Karl

the triplets, Maude, Franklin, and Karl, with Hope in back

front-to-back: Franklin, Maude, and Hope

A big picture dump of this spring's goat kids.  First were Cocoa Puff's twins, Stinker and Star.  I've had a buyer since December wanting two *boys* for pets, so of course the Chaos Puff had twins girls.  Star was an obvious name ... Stinker earned hers by bouncing off my back and shoulder any time I paid any attention to her sister.  It hit me the other week, when Stinker laid her head on my lap while I was trying to bottle Karl and Hope (and Stinker was trying to steal one or other bottle) that Stinker really, really wants constant attention.  She isn't going to be picky about what kind of attention, just as long as she is the center of my attention, and her alone.  If she ever calms down, she'd probably make an excellent pet.

Four weeks after Puff's twins, Molly had triplets again this year.  She rejected her firstborn, and it took me a day to figure that out because she has been the doting mother every other year.  As I like to do, I was there midwifing for her, and she no sooner jumped to her feet after Karl was born than the next contraction hit and she laid right back down.  I pulled little Karl out of the way and dried him off , then did the same for Franklin although she had time to catch her breath and start cleaning Franklin before Maude was ready for her debut.  Molly did NOT get a chance to clean Karl off - I did all that for her.  I was just helping, ya know ... she has only one tongue but is on her third set of triplets.  Well, it took until the next day for me to figure it out - Molly has to do at least a little of the clean-off, or she thinks, "Not my kid."  I'll need to remember that next year.

So, I finally had the two boys for my buyers.  I called them even before showering after the triplets were born, and they were eager to come out and see them, name them, and put a deposit on them ... before the state of Florida decided to do a lockdown (or, if you prefer the euphemisms like "shelter-in-place" or "stay at home order").  When the boys turned four weeks old the other weekend, the lady called to say they could take the boys once they went down to three a day bottlings.  That was this past Sunday.  I'm not sure who was more excited - the lady or her son - but each will have a pet goat.  Franklin resisted the bottle for a week, then on the eighth day he converted and began pushing Karl off the bottle every chance he got.  With Puff's twins, I sort-of gave up after six days ... now I know to go at least eight.  Franklin really was trying to prove the truth to the expression, "as stubborn as a goat."  Hmphf, I *am* a Capricorn though.

Now, the saga of Madison, and her one live twin Hope.  Madison wasn't due until two weeks after Molly kidded, but when the triplets were only three days old, she went into labor.  The little girl who ended up named Hope was first born, and not too hard of a delivery, although Hope could not even try to stand until later that night (born in the late morning).  The second twin, though ... oof.  At first I thought it was breech, but then realized that was a single fore foot.  I tried to push it back in to reposition, but Madison's contractions were just too strong.  I did move it enough for her to push it out ... dead.  With its head turned back to touch its hip, the other foreleg tucked under the body along with both hind legs, it was in the yoga-position-from-hell as far as birth presentations go.  I don't know if it died in utero or if it snapped its neck in the birth canal, but it didn't even twitch.

We put Madison in the small pen to recuperate by herself, and put the surviving kid in a cardboard box so I could look up what to do about a premie and try to get warm milk into her.  I had told hubby that night, "If she survives to morning, I am going to name her Hope."  Well, as you can see from the pictures, Hope was indeed still alive the next morning, and able to stand a little longer than the night before.  Huzzah!  Madison seemed to improve, even getting herself tangled in the electronet fence at least once, but her milk production was next to nonexistent so Grandma Molly to the rescue.

Then, the afternoon of the fourth day, Madison seemed a bit lethargic.  By evening, she was laying down mostly, and we both had a bad feeling ... which was confirmed the next morning when we found Madison dead.  Oof.  This was only the second goat I've lost (Chocolate was the first the other year, and for almost the same reason) and also the first bottle baby I've lost.  Francis, Madison's sister and also a bottle baby from last spring, doesn't seem pregnant even though she was bred ... and I am not upset by that.  Right now, both Molly and Cocoa Puff are giving a lot of milk - I brought in about a gallon and half this morning! - so I feel no urgency to rebreed Francis.  Maybe ... just maybe ... Prim might finally be pregnant again, after having milked for 34 months and drying off this December.  Maybe she's just fat and sassy on spring grass (well, she's always a bit sassy) but her udder has not gone all the way down and may - just may - be starting to gear back up.

Well, this has turned into quite the long update, but there has been a lot of stuff going on here.  For the record, bottling a rejected kid and an orphan kid takes up a LOT of time, especially the first week when their tiny tummies only hold about three hours' worth of milk.  Today, Hope is officially four weeks old and can now go down to only three bottles a day.

Goats for sale and progress bottling the keeper girls

First up, a short progress report on bottling Molly's two daughters, who will be two weeks old Wednesday.  I'm not entirely sure which girl was born first, but Madison (as in Dolly Madison), the girl with the smaller white spot on her forehead, took to the bottle almost immediately, and yesterday took down at least 8 of 9 ounces in the big bottle, plus squabbling for a teat once I let Molly into the pen.  The other girl, whom I originally was going to name Flanders (as in Moll Flanders) but looks more like a Francis (like Baby in Dirty Dancing), finally got a good latch-on this morning and chugged half the big bottle on her own.  So, two bottle babies out of three!  And as Meatloaf sang, "Two outta Three Ain't Bad," especially since these are the first of Molly's kids I've ever gotten on the bottle.  The boy, Pitcher (as in Molly Pitcher) is still not sure about the bottle idea, but I hope to change that the next few mornings.

Because my pasture will only support six adult goats in a dry year, keeping Molly's two daughters means I will need to sell two of the adult herd.  So far, I've decided on selling Tangie, the pretty girl who tends to have singles, but also has the temperament to make a good pet.

Tangie, ADGA registered adult in milk

Cocoa Puff's ornery little imp, whom I call Cinnabon

I'll be taking sales pages up for each to TSC in Palatka today when we do the feed run.

Another set of triplets from Molly

Molly finally kidded last week on Wednesday (the 3rd), wrapping up this year's kidding season in fine style with healthy, good-sized triplets.  The first two were girls, as I had told Molly before taking her to be bred that I would very much like two daughters from her and Harry.  I was beginning to wonder if there were only the two when Molly laid down and delivered the boy.  According to one of my goat books, this is unusual, as "95% of the time" when both genders are in a kidding, the boys will be born first.  All three are horned, which means I need to fire up the disbudding iron, and hope I do a better job than I did with Cocoa Puff.  I'm working on switching them over to the bottle, as bottle babies are so much friendlier.  The punchline here is, after over 7 weeks of refusing, yesterday morning Cocoa Puff's daughter Cinnabon decided she wanted to try the bottle.

"Molly loves that camera -
she always thinks it is food."

almost like three peas in a pod

now you can see all three faces

Add three more goat kids

Maggie finally kidded.  Three little boys, who all look like their sire, Harry Houdini, except one appears to be polled.  The apparently-polled one is also the one most inclined to take the bottle, which will make him the perfect replacement for his sire, who is living up to his name a bit too well for Frank and Caroline.

Pictures maybe tomorrow, if the ones from this afternoon turned out decent.  If not, there will be more pics after the rain passes.

Oh, Brooke is due to kindle sometime tomorrow, and I am gathering more eggs for the incubators.  Busy, busy, busy!  We're both tired right now.

New additions

Pics will have to wait until tomorrow, but a lot of new additions here.   My second incubator kicked things off, with the first two chicks hatching Thursday morning.  Friday evening Lacey kindled a six pack - all six live, healthy, and close enough in size there is no actual runt of this litter.  At first, I was worried she wasn't caring for them, or her milk hadn't come in enough for six, so I gave her a small handful of raspberry leaves and this morning those kits had FAT round full bellies.  Saturday ended the hatch, with a total of thirty-four live chicks out of forty-one that showed development at candling.  I guess the record from two weeks ago didn't last long.

Now, for the new addition I know y'all will want pics, pics, pics!  Yup, a new goat kid, but it wasn't Maggie who kidded this evening.  It was Cocoa Puff, who I thought had another week or two.  She sure fooled me.  One very adorable, nicely marked girl.  Meanwhile, Maggie is huge: the proverbial broad side of the barn.  We're hoping she at least has twins, for her sake.

Another addition, but not a baby: I have a new stud bunny.  I'll get pics of him when he settles in, as right now he's hiding in the privacy cubby of the new bunny hutch.  This one is almost exactly like the one last summer, and is situated under the tress.  We had to move the electronet fence after setting it up, but bunnies need shade.

It's been an eventful weekend, even before the weekend officially started.

First goat kid of 2019

Tangie standing guard over baby

Baby spends a lot of time like this

Baby beginning to explore as Tangie watches

Saturday kicked off kidding season here at the Homesteade!  Like last year, Tangie signaled she was in labor by "talking" to her yet-unborn kid in the morning, but as the day went on and no baby, I began to wonder if she was having a false labor.  I decided to check on her around 1600 (4 P.M.) as the next-to-last check, and by the time I walked around the house to the pasture, she had started to call for help.  Baby was a single, which meant she was big.  I had been hoping Tangie would have twins again.  I had to pull pretty firmly, as baby had herself wedged in with her shoulders square, just like Sweet Pea in 2017.

Sunday it started raining before we got up, and rained continuously until after we went to bed.  Goats and cats began to complain about the weather by the afternoon ... for some odd reason they all seem to think we can do something about that.  Yesterday and this morning were downright chilly - below 40F and hubby and I both sound like bowls of Rice Crispies with our "Snap! Crackle! POP!" as we get out of bed.  I did make the comment Sunday evening, "At least it ain't snow!"

Enjoy the pictures.

Molly is off for a weekend fling

Yesterday, after coordinating with Frank and Caroline, I loaded Molly up into the largest old dog crate in the bed of the pickup and took her up for a weekend fling with Harry Houdini, Prim's son.  Both Molly and Tangie are still giving a decent amount of milk, which I am attributing to the very wet summer resulting in lush green stuff in the pasture even up through the present (when usually the August heat makes the pasture dry out a bit).  Molly's absence was noticeable this morning, as she is still giving a good quart-and-half per morning.

We're all hoping Molly does triplets again.  Frank and Caroline are intending to replace Harry, as he has gotten a bit destructive, and the fencing is his preferred target.  Ideally, they want a polled son, which would be a first for Molly, but they definitely want a kid from this year's crop as I am planning to bottlefeed all kids this coming season.  I also plan to practice with the disbudding iron where appropriate.  It is going to be some work, but I saw with Tim and Andre just how easily bottle babies sell themselves, and the Cocoa/Chaos Puff shows how responsive bottle babies are once they grow up.

The polite version of yesterday's events is that Harry knew Molly was there before he even saw her.  In fact, he met her at the gate - and I had to push her in the last couple steps, as he was right there "with bells on."  Frank and Caroline both have a rather, um, "earthy" sense of humor so I'll spare y'all the ribald jokes, but let's just say Harry was interested and enthusiastic, while Molly had a "What kind of nanny do you think I am?!" look on her face.  Harry finally got the clue, and when we walked back to the house, he was busy wining-and-dining her, probably whispering sweet nothings to her as he licked her ear.  We'll go pick her back up either Sunday or Monday, depending on when hubby feels more up to it.  I won't be able to get Molly up in the truck by myself - she does NOT like traveling.  At least this time, I didn't get pulled over because someone on the highway couldn't tell the difference between a complaining goat and a "wounded deer," like what happened when we took Maggie up there.

Just for the record, Prim is STILL milking after more than twenty months.  That is exceptional!  It's also the main reason Harry is still intact and alive at this point - this breeding has been planned since last year, but Hurricane Irma messed up plans on both ends (they took damage last year).  I've been forced to learn a bit of patience, as things happen in their own time here.

Weirdness

This morning, before daylight, I was outside with the dog and heard Molly and Maggie crying.  I was worried one of them got caught in the fence, but no ... when hubby and I got back there with our headlamps on, those two had their butts up against the pen gate and were crying and doing the shameless-hussy routine for Brownie (aka Pepe Le PEW, this time of year).  So, I got in touch with Frank, who has Prim's son Harry Houdini, to arrange a goaty booty call.  We loaded her up in a dog crate in the back of the pickup and headed up to Frank's place north of Palatka.

Harry was certainly interested in Maggie as soon as she went into the pen, and she immediately squatted and peed for him, and the normal goat courtship dance commenced until Cocoa (Chocolate's daughter, and Cocoa Puff's mom) and Toast (Harry's wethered son)came over to interrupt.  Cocoa was jealous ... she really hasn't changed much in that department, and Toast was just excited because a "new" goat was back in the pen.  We left Maggie there, and will pick her up Thursday to give the love-goats enough time to work around the jealousy.  We also left the dog crate at Frank's, so the truck bed had plenty of room for the feed run.

Driving back into Palatka, after we had reached a decision on where to grab some fast (junk) food for lunch, we got pulled over by a sheriff's car.  He had drove up alongside us as if he was going to pass then dropped back and turned on his lights.

"Are we getting pulled over?"  "I think we're getting pulled over."

The babyfaced deputy walked up and didn't take hubby's license and insurance card, but said someone had called in saying we had a wounded doe in the back.  Now, Maggie is a rather vocal goat, and she was certainly complaining all the way up to Frank's, and she is also the goat whose coloring is closest (but not identical!) to a deer's.  However, there are also quite a few goat people who call their billies and nannies "bucks" and "does" just like the deer terms.  So, we heard "doe" and were thinking goat, for obvious reasons.  When we said we took her up to a friend's to be bred, he asked if we had the proper permit with us, or if he needed to call FWC (Florida Wildlife Commission) about it.  At that point, I realized he was thinking deer, and said, "No.  We have GOATS!"  That cleared things up.  He told us bow (hunting) season has already started.

Yeesh.  Apparently, someone thought we had a deer-doe, and that the deer-doe was crying and must have been wounded.  When I told Frank about it, when he got done chuckling he mentioned we should probably mark the pickup "Goat Transport" and of course, put "No kidding!" across the tailgate.  I had already brought the subject of marking the pickup with ALL the species we do to make the farmers' markets a bit easier.  My friend Lynn's comment was, "Gee, don't people know the difference between deer and goats?!?  Really?!?"  Apparently not, not even down here.

Oh yeah, to top it all off ... the register at Tractor Supply did a weird error.  I put my chip card in to pay, and instead of asking for my PIN it opened the cash drawer and printed a receipt saying I paid in cash.  It took a phone call to the regional help desk to fix that on the computer from their end.

I had to say my usual punchline: "More than just a job, it's an adventure!" when we were just about home.

Getting caught up

I am way behind on updates here, and hubby apparently didn't feel he had anything to say while I was gone to my son's wedding, so here we go:

• I sold three kids before I left on my trip: Andre, Timmy, and Tyche.  All three went to pet homes - Andre pretty much sold himself! - and that gave me travel money.
• I sold three more kids this past Saturday: Brownie Junior, Hansel, and Snickers (Cocoa Puff's daughter).  Brownie Jr turned on all the charm we never knew he had and got himself a pet home, and Hansel and Gretel won over a young couple, but they want to breed and get milk, so I mentioned the 3 week old Snickers as a potential bottle baby and they agreed to come out to the property to see her.  It was love at first sight, and when the gal asked if she could hold Snickers, I watched her just MELT when Snickers turned, looked her in the eye, and batted those baby blues.  I have full confidence Snickers will be every bit as spoiled as mama Cocoa Puff.  They said they'll probably change Hansel's name (no big deal) but they love the name Snickers.
• Hubby accomplished his mission while I was gone and kept the milk production up.  Even though he ran two gallons through the cream separator after picking me up in Palatka, I still had to make a cheese the very next day, and have been making quite a few cheeses since returning home (all cheddars right now) as I am bringing in between a full gallon and a gallon and a half each morning.  And this is with Maggie still over at Frank and Caroline's to breed to Harry Houdini (Prim's son, if you recall).  Hubby will have plenty of cheddar cheese stocked up before I switch over making butterkase (has an umlatt over the "a") when it warms up.
• Tractor Supply has had Gold-Laced Wyandottes TWICE now for Chick Days.  Both groups were labeled pullets only, but the first group was actually a straight run as I have at least four cockerels out of eight.  I got with one of the assistant managers yesterday about that, proposed a working-out on some more chicks, and he found that agreeable as I took home another ten chicks.  I forgot to ask if they know which hatchery they're getting their stock from, but either way it's a potential new infusion of genetics.
• The week after Chocolate died, a possum got my best hen Beauty.  Yes, I still mad about that ... we trapped and killed the culprit (I thought we were going for a raccoon), but that doesn't change the fact I did not get to hatch any eggs from her.  This is back on my mind as I get ready to fire up the incubator and two hens in the broody house are setting eggs (to be replaced as soon as the rain stops).

Andre the bottle baby

Andre finally accepted the bottle yesterday afternoon!  We are both so relieved to see him slurping away on the bottle after almost two days of resisting and getting frighteningly thin.  Tiny Tim had no problem switching, and is busy growing in an effort to catch up with his larger brother.  Until they come when called (shouldn't be too much longer now) they are only out of the dog crate with supervision, but they got in some serious bounce-time this morning after putting down about 8 ounces between the two.  Hubby's mom has requested video of the bottle babies climbing all over us, so we'll try to get to that.  Right now, we are feeding every 2-1/2 to 3 hours during daytime, because their little stomachs can't hold too much yet.

Orphan kids

Chocolate died yesterday afternoon.  Apparently she had been hiding how badly she felt, until she didn't have the strength to hide it any longer.  We checked on her in the morning, and hubby checked on her again at noon while I was at my appointment in Palatka.  When I got home and we got the truck unpacked (I bought stuff for a separation pen) we both went out to check on her again ... and the facade had dropped.  She was laying in an awkward position, with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and a lavender-grey color.  When an animal's tongue turns that color, then it's all over but the death rattle.  Hubby went to get the gorilla cart, then lifted her into it and we rolled her up while I carried the kids.  While I put up the kids, hubby got the .22 and ended her suffering.

I cried a bit while we skinned her, butchered the carcass, and fed the offal to the pigs.  Hubby is getting ready to filet as much meat off the bones as he can, and while I was up in Palatka doing errands before my appointment, I succumbed to the book temptation: "Home Sausage Making."  It has some interesting pork sausage recipes, along with recipes for beef, lamb, venison, poultry, and wild game sausages.  There's even a chapter on vegetarian sausages.  This was not how I intended to try a first recipe, but this happened and while it sucks, we're trying to make the best of the situation.

Tiny Tim is having no problem at all switching to a bottle, but Andre is still trying to resist.  I can get a little milk in him, maybe a swallow or two or three, then he remembers he doesn't like the bottle and hollers while struggling.  This is actually an improvement over last night's feedings, so I haven't given up hope yet.  I tell him he doesn't exactly have a choice now, because either he gets on the bottle or we'll lose him also.

This sucks.  No one is to blame - it wasn't Andre's fault he is so big, or was positioned wrong.  I did what I could, but apparently that wasn't enough.  Cross your fingers that I can get Andre on the bottle, as that is the next crisis-in-waiting.

Andre the Giant and Tiny Tim

Chocolate kidded yesterday, pretty much on time by my estimate last week, and boy was this a rough kidding.  If she had tried to do it overnight while we were asleep, or waited for me to leave the property, we would have lost all three.  That's not hyperbole - Andre wasn't just double the size of a normal newborn, he was malpositioned in a bad way.  He was upside-down, with his head back and pointed towards Chocolate's udder, so every time she pushed he went nowhere.  I ended up reaching in, pushing his front legs back in (I felt bad for Chocolate during this) and then bringing his head forward to point the right direction.  I thought for sure I'd be pulling a dead kid, because I did need to pull him due to his size and mam's exhaustion, but as soon as his head was out he gave a cry.  I was so relieved to hear that.  Tiny Tim is actually about average size for a newborn Nigerian Dwarf kid, but next to his brother he looks small.  He came out breech (backwards, hind feet first) and I had to pull him as well because poor Chocolate was both exhausted and in pain (with good reason).

Tiny Tim

Andre the Giant, Chocolate, and Tiny Tim

a better shot of Tiny Tim

Andre looking for his first meal

Andre the Giant complaining

Andre the Giant

looking in the wrong area for the udder!

Chocolate nuzzling her babies,
trying to steer them in the right direction

After she nuzzled and made sure the new boys were dry and knew who mama is, Chocolate laid down to rest.  I tried bottling both, but Andre would have none of that.  Tiny Tim caught on to the bottle idea almost immediately.  I finally pointed Andre towards the one accessible teat while Chocolate was laying down, and heard definite suction when he connected.  I made the joke to hubby afterwards about how the only parts of Andre moving after he latched on to the teat were his tail and tongue ... then looked at the dog and remarked how familiar that is.

Chocolate is still resting and recovering today.  Brownie and Prim are bugging the everlovin' **** out of her, so those two are in dog crates until Chocolate feels up to standing up for herself and babies.  This really drives home the idea that I need a separation pen in the goat pasture.  I've been talking about wanting one, but hadn't bought what we need to put it together.  That will be fixed post-haste.

And a short video!

Goat kid pictures and video

I'm a bit slow at posting these, but I hope y'all think the wait is worth it.  Here are pictures of Hansel and Gretel, and a video of little Tyche (and Maggie).

Gretel napping in the feed tub

a slightly better pic of Gretel

Gretel, Tangie, and Hansel

Tangie and Hansel

Hansel and Gretel napping in the feed tub

It doesn't seem to matter whose kids they might be, pretty much every kid has napped in one of the feed tubs when small ... and Cocoa Puff was even napping in it last summer when she barely fit.  Good thing these feed tubs are flexible enough to not break.  Any time we can't spot some babies, especially siblings, we check the feed tubs.

Gretel seems indifferent to ear rubs, but if Hansel is in a mellow (read: napping or ready to nap) mood, he'll lean into the ear rub.  I asked him this morning if he gets that from his mom or his dad, as both will lean into an ear rub with a satisfied look.  Tyche comes up to me for attention.  I guess Maggie isn't nuzzling her enough, although Maggie still seems a bit bewildered and confused by this motherhood idea.  Y'all know me - I am happy to take up the slack in that department.