I was reading the Vegan thread and got to thinking how much I like my goats. I have three milking. They keep my weeds and yard eaten all summer for free. They make milk which my (human) kids love to drink and put on their cereal. I make fresh cheese almost every day.
They are much smarter and more endearing than my dogs. Seem to love being milked and seem extraordinarily fond of the people in their lives. Whenever they let themselves out of their pen I can call them and they all come running back, wagging their little goat tails and back into the pen we go.
Their lives seem as blissful and happy as goat lives can be. Our relationship seems very natural, non-exploitive and symbiotic. Anyway, I’m starting to ramble. But I sure like the little rascals.
I love goats.
When I was about 22, and discovered myself to be allergic to milk/cheese (headaches, fatigue,) I maintained a dream of one day having dairy goats. With that in mind, I bought a quart of goat milk at the health food store and drank it. It was delicious.
Then I had a 3 day migraine.
So much for that dream!
I still love goats.
They do indeed love fruit trees. They’re also partial to my grape vines though we talk about it often and they regularly commit to forbearance. Either they have short memories or I don’t yet know the goat word for forbearance.
Heat one gallon of milk to 185 degrees (just below boiling).
Take off the stove.
While stirring add 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar.
In about a minute the curds form. Strain the whey (and save it to make an awesome soup base) by pouring the stuff through a collander lined with a cloth napkin and voila! Goat cheese.
Add some salt and whatever else you want for flavoring. I like garlic and italian seasoning. We also do pineapple and almonds and whatever else comes to mind…Much fun and quite tasty. Also much healthier for the human bod than cow milk or cheese.
You must have exceptional goats. I spent most of my childhood stepping in their blueberries and I remember them as smelly, stubborn, indifferent, single-minded, pains in the arse. From alpines and nubians to the sheep-like angora if they were at pasture they didn’t come when you called. You had to drag them by the leash. And the only time they ran for anything was when their bellies had something to gain from it. When they ran out of grass at pasture they’d break their leash and eat something they weren’t supposed to. When you milked them they struggled against you and stepped in the pail. When you sheered them they bleated like mad and put up an even greater fight. And in general they minded their own business except when they were hungry or wanted their head rubbed.
I’ve always liked goats, and wouldn’t mind having a few, if I had room, though I probably wouldn’t be able to keep them as milk goats.
How long can you milk a goat before she dries up and has to kid again? I know it’s something like three years with a cow, though most dairies seem to breed them yearly anyway.
There’s a joke I once heard in which an aging, slightly deaf crofter who injudiciously responds to a storyteller’s rhetorical question, “did you ever make love to a ghost?”
I have some goats. They are great at keeping the kudzu off of the property. They also act like dogs, just lounging around and stuff, and they come to their names. The milking ones are too much work though. You have to milk them twice a day, and in the winter it can be hellish. I had to get rid of one though because he kept on getting loose and trying to get with the neighbor’s prized goats. We sold him to some neighbors, and they liked him for a while, then decided to eat him.
We sold him to some neighbors, and they liked him for a while, then decided to eat him.