Its been a long week!

It has been a long week here at Rock HQ, one which will be etched into our memory forever. How these four goats managed to survive is a credit to modern medicines, Ambrose who also survived is not in the picture as he is spending his waking hours searching for his twin, Archie who was not so fortunate and moved to celestial pastures the morning entrotoximia was diagnosed.

Juliet, above, is still not quite 100% and seems to be sticking to plain food like twigs, bark and other rough stuff. I can tell the three below are feeling a bit more adventurous, not only because they are foraging for hay but they are also within striking distance of Misty the feisty Shetland who has a temper on her that matches Genghis Khan's.

Goat buster

I was asked again the other day, why do you keep goats?

The above picture shows Archie and Ambrose legging it after being caught vandalising the lemon tree (first year we had the tree we grew 13 use able lemons, 2nd year when we had goats we grew a few shattered twigs).

Bravo broke her tether today and fortunately for all concerned was caught in the vegetable garden before she ate anything other than cumprhey. She took refuge in the empty greenhouse thinking I wouldn't notice her, then tried to run out through the end glass wall in an attempt to evade capture.

Juliet forgot about her tether today and climbed into a small sycamore tree, fell, wrapped her tether around a branch and just managed not to hang herself by standing very upright until I arrived with the branch loppers to free her.

Geisha spilt a bucket of dog food across the yard while Maggie climbed into Fifi for a forensic examination of the rear luggage compartment in search of spilt animal feed.

I have been stung, brambled, bit, fought off horns and generally suffered at the hooves of our herd and in return ended up with zero milk. Again.

So I ask myself, why do I keep goats?

New from M+B games

Enthusiasm is prerequisite for the smallholder. You need stacks of it, an unlimited supply of the stuff to force you out of bed some mornings to brave the elements and tend your animals. Luckily in the sunshine the enthusiasm capacitors are recharged very quickly which is why I have decided that milking the goat is a good idea. Good idea, no, great idea, why pretty soon I will be making goats cheese, feeding the surplus to the pigs and perhaps even bathing in the stuff as an ex colleague who saw a picture of me on the website sent a very encouraging e mail the other day. You are looking old. Just that. Cheers!

Anyway with enthusiasm bordering on the delusional I decided the Old English Goat, Juliet had sponged off Rock HQ enough, she might have provided us with two nanny kids to sell, she might be a very efficient weed clearing machine but her primary role was, when given a berth here, to provide us with milk. As was her sister June, who opted out of the milk project by exploding. Yes goats explode, look back over the pages to find how and when.

The how to milk goats book is a great help, and had I followed it I would have forked out a fortune on stainless steel apparatus to collect, sieve and cool the precious liquid in.(Hundreds of pounds) I would also have constructed a milking bench to save my back and not allowed what was supposed to be a goat dairy at the back of the stables to become another home for another horse.

What the smallholder really needs if they want milk from their goat is the patience of Jobe, the flexibility of a Russian Gymnast, the speed and reflexes of a panther and a fridge that has a lot of milk in it already because in the unlikely event of you being able to squeeze a few drops out out the writhing udder it is more than likely to be rendered undrinkable by the goats hoof, or hair, snot, bogies and numerous other foreign bodied that float happily in the jug.

First job is to lull the goat into a false sense of security that nothing bad is going to happen with a bucket of goats favourite munchies. (cost 50p) Dangerous pointy ends of goat are now facing away from you you approach udder in prescribed manner as per book. Remove goats right left leg from jug and shake out bits. Approach udder again. Remove both legs from jug. Stand up and straighten out back muscles. Empty jug. Hold goat against fence with your left leg, secure goats right leg in your right pocket, reach around smelly dangerous end carefully, approach udder and take hold of teat. Yelp in pain as sharp pointy end makes its self known, consider repairs for trousers (£14.99) Consider shooting goat ( 47p) Stand up, straighten back muscles.

Finally, grip teat firmly and resisting temptation to yank down hard to teach devil goat a lesson squeeze gently, first five squeeze are waste, do not attempt to catch them as they are full of nasty bacteria. Squeezes six to ten are range finding squeezes, ensuring milk hits jug held strategically out of range of goats hoof and bottom. Squeezes ten to empty are yours. Once one side of the udder is empty stand up, cry in pain because of need for osteopath (£35 a session) bend and attempt to milk other side.

Repeat above game of Goat Twister until one or both of you gets bored. Goat wins game if it can eat food without providing enough milk for a cup of coffee. You win if you gamble, risking the enough gathered for a cup of coffee and risk losing it all to get enough for your morning cornflakes.

I have run the gauntlet twice in 24 hours and so far collected a whole wine glass full of milk. The how to make cheese book is flawed, its measurements are in litres, wheres the millilitre conversion table when you need one.

Cost effective? Not really.

More fun than going to the shops?

Definitely. As long as the sun shines.

The joy of goats

Bravo is on the roof, Geisha is complaining her feet hurt and Juliet is eating todays eggs out of my bucket.

Never a dull moment with goats around.

Interesting CV

We took Rene our Rx4 to have his tyres changed today and while I struggled with the complex communication techniques of the fitters who avoided eye contact at all costs, grunted or sighed dependent on whether they were being asked a specific question or explaining that Rene had in fact blown his front pipe, I wondered why my shoulders were aching so much today.

Was it as a result of moving so many bales of hay from one end of the smallholding, or perhaps my yet to be patented technique for digging the garden that doesn't involve bending, no I concluded as I drove the recently retired Rx4 back towards Rock HQ, it was because of a new skill I added to my ever expanding CV yesterday.

I am now a goat wrestler.

Now this is very different from the horse whisperer technique you may have heard about, where an unspoken bond between man and beast exists and they communicate and cooperate achieving great feats. No, this is a technique borne from the desperation of trying to keep two young kids alive whilst preventing an irate goat from goring you to death. It basically entails holding said goat by the horns and holding her steady while Ambrose and Archie sneak a quick milk shake. As can be expected Juliet took immediate exception to this restriction of her liberties and the violation of her udder by her nephews and countered my attempts to hold her still while Ambrose and Archie had a little snack by going completely mental. Even with her eyes covered and one of her kids feeding at the same time she managed to sense the deception and stamp all over Ambrose whilst pushing me over the bales of hay strategically placed to conceal the intruders.

Chaos reigned for several minutes as those involved tried to achieve their competing aims until finally the boys were fed, I had asserted my authority and Juliet had inflicted enough damage to her tormentors and we could all relax. The video clip above is taken soon after the event and as can be seen they are all fine.

Sorry Kid

Its been on my mind how nicely the goats all get along. I mean no family friction at all amongst the two sisters June and Juliet, and Bravo, Juliet's daughter. Since they have arrived at Rock HQ these three have been inseparable and presented a united front to the magnificent seven should they be so bold as to venture within horns reach.

Even when Juliet gave birth to Aggie and Annabel, Bravo was non plussed and we would often find Bravo curled up with one of the new kids, or both Juliet and Bravo providing shelter and warmth for the little ones.

A bit of rivalry arose between June and Juliet so we split them up by putting a five bar gate down the centre of the stable and since Monday, the day the new arrivals finally did, all has been relatively quiet in the block.

Tonight a block war erupted.

For whatever reason Juliet decided that Bravo was old enough to fend for herself and expelled her from the herd. As the herd is contained in a 12 by 12 stable Bravo was unable to put any distance between herself and her now very aggressive Mum and was basically battered around the building while Tracey and I sought to separate the combatants and protect the little non combatants, Aggie and Annabel who were suddenly caught up in a very real fight. The video clip above was taken literally seconds before Juliet decided to launch her attack shows Annabel playing with Bravo. Order was restored when a very bewildered Bravo was removed to next door where she has spent the last few hours bleating for her Mum and exercising her authority over two confused Ryeland sheep who are due to give birth.

Juliet immediately settled to caring for the kids once Bravo was out of sight.

Families eh?

The Fab Four!

Ambrose looking good!

June with Ambrose and Archie.

Juliet cuddled up to Aggie and Annabel.

Its good news, all four kids have survived the first 24 hours and all have I promise you already grown! The Fab Four are bouncing around the stable as I type. June, the hornless version of The Old English Goat has got over her fright at having two kids fall out of her backside and now stands still to accommodate their feeding. Yesterday was a different matter when she turned around or walked off every time the two lads tried to feed.

We had seen this before, last year a Ryeland ewe we have called Easter gave birth to twins in the early hours. Unfortunately I went to bed after making sure they had arrived safely, I was dog tired. What I should have done was make sure that they had fed, if they don't eat in the first hour they tend to die. This is exactly what happened, after six hours following the teat the poor lambs collapsed exhausted. We managed to get colostrum, a very special milk mix full of anti bodies down their necks but one of them, Primrose, died late in the evening.

Daffodil on the other hand thrived and is our fattest ever lamb and despite protestations she has avoided becoming lamb chops and is now a pet. As you can see she has learned a lot from last weeks escapade when she got herself stuck in the fence, this time she has got herself tangled in some wire that I meant to clear up but didn't. This was soon remedied and a reminder that I should keep the yard tidy.

Back to the goats, Ambrose, they all have names now, well he couldn't get to feed as June was all over the place so we had to milk her and get him to eat. This was not an easy or stress free operation but we managed to get a plastic tube down him and put 250ml of colostrum milk into him in two feeds without him drowning. He fell asleep but it didn't look too hopeful.

4am he was bouncing around.

7am he was feeding from his Mum.

Its great when you can give nature a helping hand.

New Kids at The Rock

Finally, after 11 or so days of promising to deliver June and Juliet finally have, and as is often the case when your time is split between paid work and smallholding we missed all the excitement. So our reward for the loss of sleep are four adorable kids who were waiting the other side of the stable door when we returned from a hard day at the office.

Juliet has two girls, now named Aggie and Annabel whilst June dropped two boys, Ambrose and Archie.

Unfortunately for the boys they will have a very different destiny than the two girls and by the looks one of them is not long for this world. We have done what we can, made sure he has had his first feed which contains all the vital anti bodies necessary for survival but he doesn't look good. Anyone who read last years Tales around lambing will know the battle we had to save Daffodil and the loss we felt when her sister Primrose died.

Lucky Pup

Lots going on tonight, I think this is it for Juliet, she looks like a goat pancake lay down and is in denial that she is about to pop but fingers crossed she is going to deliver the kids tonight.

Lilly is a lucky pup, she has been adopted by Tracey and so has achieved the required pet status to stay on at Rock HQ, Her sister Suzie has been re homed with a nice retired couple who will no doubt adore her.

We are not amused

Maggie is not impressed with the new additions to the embryonic goat herd at Rock HQ. In fact she has sulked and watched from a distance as Juliet, another armed version of the goat world and with an eye on the herd leader position, instantly challenged Maggie to a duel and much to every ones surprise put Maggie on her backside and ultimately in her place.

So Maggie the now deposed goat queen who has ruled Rock HQ since her mothers premature death is having to get used to the idea that she is no longer top dog of the herbivores that wander our domain. She hasn't taken this well and is currently sulking in the goat house while the new goats have the luxurious setting of Apollos stable as we wait for them to give birth.

I am developing similar feelings for the new goats, a distinct lack of amusement as Juliet shows every sign of imminent production of kids. So much so that we have had her on 3 hour watch, right through the night our alarm goes off and I dutifully get dressed and stagger bleary eyed out to the stable block only to discover the miracle of birth still hasn't taken place. She is doing all the right thing, has become more vocal, a bit bad tempered with her stall mates, white discharge from her bits, followed by red discharge, lots of stretching, lying down and licking of her sides but 48 hours on no little ones to reward her efforts and my lack of sleep.

Tonight I am not setting the alarm, I am going to sleep.

Waiting game

This is a family portrait, June on the left, Bravo and Juliet in the right, they are Old English Goats which as it happens are another rare breed. It seems that these, not these, but the breed were common and popular amongst 19th century farmers and small holders as they are hardy and eat most vegetation. Apparently there are only 1000 or so registered goats in the UK, and we are lucky enough to have three with what seems like at least another four on the way because June and Juliet are about to give birth.

Exciting times at Rock HQ!

New kids at the Rock

Settling in over a bite of supper this is Juliet, the heavily pregnant nanny and her daughter Bravo who is around 6 months old. You can just make out June's head in the foreground who decided to forego her share of supper to have a backscratch off her new owners.

June is also pregnant and from the look of her it wont be long before we get some new kids at the Rock!