By SIDNEY BROWN
Sheridan High School Student
Editor’s Note: The Sheridan Student Column is brought to readers by Sheridan High School’s 10th grade English class, taught by Abby Williams.
Dear anyone who has made fun of me for loving goats, having goats, and/or talking about goats: Understand this.
Dear people who talk loudly near me so I can hear about how delicious goat meat is and how you used a goat for roping practice and left it to die: Understand this.
Understand how hard and tirelessly I work for my animals. Understand that you are not strong enough to do what I do. I put my tears, sweat and blood into my goats.
Val and Tonks were my first two girl goats. I raised them since they were about three months old. Val looks like a calico cat. She wasn’t born on Valentine’s Day, but some of her white splotches look like hearts, hence her name. Tonks is black and fat. She’s like a mini draft horse.
The beginning of my “goat journey” was when I got my first two goats, wethers named Akrin and Harvey. They were killed two weeks later by my dogs. God works in mysterious ways. If that hadn’t happened I wouldn’t have gotten the girls.
A little less than a year later, I got two more goats, Adaira and Masq. Adaira is black and white and her nose is all pink and it’s so cute. Masq, before she died, was probably the biggest dairy goat doe in the United States. At her best, she weighed 200 pounds. She had these cartoon eyes. One eyeball went up and the other down. Her face was so long that people often mistook her for a miniature horse. Her tongue was so long. She had knobbly knees that bent inwards. She had a teat that hung right in the center of her legs. When she cried, her “voice” was so off-key that she was probably the reason we had no problems with coyotes. Everyone called her the Nanny Goat because she loved all kids and would care for any baby.
The first year of kidding (2018), Masq miscarried three kids. She was extremely sick. Her body delivered them early so she could heal. I remember early mornings going to care for her. I gave her medicine every day and a “milkshake” so she would still have some nutrients. She was only taking in liquids so she had diarrhea. She did her business laying down and I cleaned her up. I worked tirelessly for two months, staying out late at night in the barn and waking up in the middle of the night to check on her.
Masq was queen bee and let everyone know it as soon as she saw her friends again. Her frame was fragile but her heart wasn’t. She lasted for a few months before she got sick again. I remember her telling me it was time to go. Her body wasn’t strong enough to get better again. Masq loved being outside so I let her outside. She soaked up all the sun she could before the vet arrived. I remember holding her enormous head in my hands as she closed her eyes for the last time.
Tonks miscarried one baby because she was too fat. Adaira had triplets, two boys and a girl. The girl died because she gave birth during the night and I wasn’t there. Val gave birth to two boys.
The gestation period for goats is five months. During those months, I’m watching the girls’ bellies to see growth patterns. I have to make sure they’re gaining weight and keeping it on. Goats have fat pads under their tails, and I feel that to see if the girls are at a good weight. I also make sure their udder is bagging up nicely. If the sides are uneven, it could mean infection in the udder.
I have so much more I want to say into this, so stay tuned next week for a part two!