I don’t think we have ever really written about one specific goat on our blog before. The story I am going to tell is about a 3 day old goat (who is now 9 days old) that has had more adventures than the majority of our herd put together – unless you count the original 6 and their free range escapades when they arrived at Must Bee Kiddin’ Farm.
Recently we purchased the adjoining 10 acres. It is now fenced and there are a set of gates that connect the two properties. The new property is dense and difficult to navigate – perfect for goats – not so perfect for humans! The plan we are executing is to hold the goats overnight on the original property (behind electric net fences, as always) and then let them onto the new property during the day so they can have the all you can eat option. This will free up a bunch of time for us to do other projects and focus on some very important goals we want to achieve.
While it’s only been a few days, this new set up has been working very well.
Then a goat had a baby.
This little dude, who we have starting calling Dunk, was born on the afternoon of Tuesday, January 31st. His first couple of days went well. Baby goats sleep a lot and they are pretty unsteady on their legs until about 5 or 6 days. It’s hard for them to keep up with the herd, especially so when there is 10 acres at their disposal to free range and wander about. Goat Maa’s also tend to stash their kids in “secure” places to keep them from becoming a victim of predation.
We have our goats conditioned to meal times. They get a morning ration and an evening ration. On Thursday, they were called for their evening ration and when Mark did the head count the newest member of the herd was missing. This isn’t totally unusual, but normally their Maa’s call for them and they come back. Well, that didn’t happen. Mark fed the goats and the goat Maa kind of called for her kid, but he never came back and he didn’t answer.
In farming, you have to weigh your options. Sometimes the decisions are easy to make, and other times the decisions are harder. Mark looked for Dunk until well past sunset and the dark crept in. He’s small, he’s brown, he’s quiet – there really was no hope of finding him on 10 dense acres. Mark made the decision to let it play out overnight and see what the morning brought.
The natural instinct of a goat when darkness settles in is to hunker down, shut up and sleep. There are coyotes and bobcat in the area around our farm, and we’ve seen both very close by the fences. While we would be shattered over losing the little guy, the greater risk and possible loss of the majority of our herd would be far worse and more devastating financially, so he locked the gates, closed up the net fence, put the electric on and hoped for the best.
Mark arrived at the farm just as dawn was breaking. The little guy hadn’t shown up yet and his Maa seemed to be more interested in her breakfast and foraging. She’d call out, but there wasn’t any answer. Mark spent over an hour looking for the littlest goat, and just when he started to think that things were looking grim he sent me a text that he found him. ALIVE! What the…
He wasn’t injured and he was a little cold, but nothing a warm breakfast of milk couldn’t remedy. Life seemed great in the goat herd for the remainder of the day.
Then it was time to put them away for the night.
Guess who didn’t make an appearance? Again.
Mark looked until dark again, and called it another night. This was starting to get tiresome.
It was another early morning on the farm Saturday. Two sets of eyes spanning out and looking for the tiniest goat in the herd. We must have walked in circles for almost an hour when Mark came up with the idea to look for him grid-style. Tucked away, in the crotch of a fallen tree, under a palm frond Mark found our little Dunk. Sound asleep.
I was determined to make sure that kid spent the night with his herd that night, so we took over Nanny Duty for the day. He was a cuddly little dude and didn’t seem to mind the attention. When we left the farm on Saturday night, he was right where he was supposed to be. His Maa got the hint and kept close to him on Sunday, so we were able to get some real farm work done and his streak of sleeping in safety increased to two nights.
It’s too soon to tell what the future holds for little Dunk. He’s pretty special because he was the first goat born on the new property and he survived three (three? keep reading to the end) nights all alone on 10 acres without his herd. He’s also a male and could become a great herd sire to another farm or provide a family a freezer full of dinners (we are a farm here, not a petting zoo, ya'll) or just maybe he could be wethered and remain on Must Bee Kiddin’ Farm for years to come. We’ll just have to see how this plays out.
After writing this, early Monday evening I was informed that young Dunk, less than 10 days old, made the decision that he would spend a third night alone on the 10 acres. The next morning though, when the pans were banged and the goatie call to breakfast rang out, he came a hollerin’ for milk and his Maa!
Post Post Script:
Dunk spent Tuesday night with the herd and I’ve just heard he’s going to do the same tonight. Maybe he’s just slow to catch onto the herd concept?
In 2014 a couple of 40-somethings decided to make a change. The purchase of 10 raw, pine scrub acres along Florida's Nature Coast started it all. This is that story.