Wednesday is a regular business town day. Not every Wednesday, but I choose that day, mostly because it's just less traffic congestion. Driving isn't one of my favorite things. I've also learned through the years, that no matter what time I head to town, I'll get home at evening chore time. Ordinarily I couldn't tell you what takes so long, but this time I can . . . and I shall.
This time of year, I'm usually milking five or six goats, once a day, but two years ago was really hard on the herd and me, so I've been recuperating and rebuilding. I sold one last year for sad sentimental reasons, Stella's gone now, and another old reliable has just gotten too old and grumpy. There are three beautiful doelings this year that I plan to keep, but they aren't in the production end of the process. As a matter of fact, in keeping the offspring, I make sure they get more time with their "milker moms" which also means less milk for me. I bought a beautiful Nubian last week at the auction, who had never been milked. She caught on pretty quickly and is now simply stellar. Since that went so well, but still needing more milk, I asked around about any goats for sale, specifically Toggenburgs, as Stella was a Togg cross.
By Tuesday evening I had a lead on a Togg, as well as another interesting possibility, so I figured I'd just stack goat shopping on top the town day. I spoke with the people and gave them an approximate time, according to my itinerary. Realizing I just might be taking a goat to town for the day, there was hay and water in the buggy. I was particularly excited about going to the first place, as the goat he had for sale was a Togg cross, but that night I "heard" I had to stop trying to replace Stella. Rather than going, just sure about a purchase, I went with greater understanding.
The goat, of course, was beautiful, and the owners were very diligent to share all the paperwork of her registration, as well as all the timely treatments she'd been given. They shared the fact the young kids were all being treated for scours, the twin to the one I was looking at had aborted in the winter, and had been rebred . . . the "grand champion sire" was not only the "working buck" but was also related to some of the herd. As they continued to talk, what I saw and heard was these goats were beautiful in appearance, but their immune system had been severely compromised with continual treatments. The folks proudly shared all the facts regarding show awards and champion blood lines, but what I heard as they spoke, was something entirely different. This beautiful two year old goat was too chemically damaged to live naturally and organically. I thanked them for their time and left.
The sun was sinking toward the horizon as I left the second farm. I knew when I saw the place, these goats would be "healthier." Sure enough, I asked! No antibiotics on the place. Healthy babies on nice big healthy mamas, and we worked a deal. Rather than just paying too much for one goat at the other place, I bought two does who are still adjusting a bit to the routine, but are robust and healthy with the immunity our Heavenly Father created in them. They may not be show goats, but I think they're beautiful!
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