A few months ago I wrote about our goat milking trial….and oh what was a trial it was. There were curses and there were pails of spilled milk and there were tears. More tears than I care to remember. The girls were not cooperative and I was trying everything I could think of to make the process less painful for everyone involved. Alas, it just took time. Time for me to learn the art of finessing the itty bitty titty of the goat. Time for our girls to accept this awkward new step in their morning routine. Time for us both to figure each other out.
I’m glad to report that we’ve found a milking truce on the homestead. I wouldn’t say the girls are model milking goats. As far as we’ve come together, as good as they are in comparison to those early days, they are still fussy. They still have ‘their ways’. I like to think I just know how to deal with them a bit better. In truth, these girls have ME trained. They get fussy, I give them a bit more grain. They start to dance around, I give them sunflower seeds. The foot stamping begins, I give them alfalfa.
So, the goat waltz has shifted a bit. I’m now the one dancing to their direction. (This is where most professional dairy goat herders huff in disgust at my lack of goat training.) That’s okay. I’m still starting out at this whole business and, for now, for us, this new dance works. The cursing, the spilled milk and tears have ceased and I return from the barn each morning with a half gallon of milk…and that’s a success in my book.
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