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.
It’s Sidney again, here with part 3!
My favorite thing to do comes next! Milking! Milking is difficult and it’s not an easy skill to learn; it’s more of a gift, really. The bond between a doe and her milker is unbreakable. My does refuse to let anyone else milk them; if I’m sick, my mom will still get me up just to milk the girls because they refuse to let anyone else touch them. One time, I had just gotten home from the hospital and my mom brought me outside to milk the girls.
When my girls aren’t pregnant and are not in milk, they eat two scoops of food altogether a day. When they’re in milk, they eat one scoop of food each two times daily. That’s six scoops of feed for three goats! They have a milking pecking order and if that gets messed up, they are not happy campers. Tonks always goes first, then Adaira, and lastly Val.
The most important thing when milking is cleanliness. The first thing I do is put on hand sanitizer. I then grab two non-alcoholic wet wipes to clean the udder; one to clean the entire udder and the other for the teats. I then put on more hand sanitizer and milk them out. After they’re milked out, I put on lotion to keep the moisture in.
Vets aren’t really involved in the goat world, unless your goat is really, really sick. Worming? Do it yourself. Shots? Do it yourself. Goat giving birth? Do it yourself. Dehorning, castrating, bloating, mastitis? Do it yourself.
Worming is really difficult, but it’s necessary to keep goats healthy. Worms are becoming more and more immune to medication as the years go by, so researching and finding out which medications to use is a must. Some medications I deliver monthly, others I deliver yearly. I have to give the right medication at the right times because sometimes medications cancel each other out. A lot of math is involved too. Goats’ weights vary so I have to measure their weight to see how much they need of the wormers. And to deliver the medication, I have to straddle the goat, hold their head up, and stick a tube down the right side of the throat. Trust me, there’s a technique.
My mom delivers the shots but I still had to learn how to give them. And shots hurt, so guess who has to hold the goat still while their mom shoves a needle into a powerful animal? If my mom delivers the shot wrong, my goat could keel over right then and there. Boom. Dead. If the skin around where the shot was inserted isn’t rubbed and massaged, a bump could show up on the skin. Tonks had this happen to her. I had to take her to the vet and get the bump removed and now her hair won’t grow back in that spot.
There’s also no such thing as a goat farrier. I cut all of my goats’ hooves myself. Cutting at the right angle is important. If done improperly, the goat could have severe arthritis and joint problems later in life. When the girls are pregnant, their feet can get crooked and messed up due to the extra weight they’re having to carry, so fixing that before fair time is a struggle too.
There are so many more things I do and so much more knowledge that I have on goats. I could explain pasturing, dehorning, castration, or shearing every little nick and cranny of the goat for fair time. I could explain how I have to wear all white to show. I could explain pedigrees and naming and awards. I could explain and tell you everyone I know in the goat business. I could explain how painful it is to have to sell goats that I’ve raised since birth, knowing I’ll never see them again. I could explain what body parts to memorize and tell you what a scorecard is and how to use this knowledge in showmanship. I could tell you the maneuvers I have to do depending on where the judge is in the ring. There’s so much more I could tell you but I can’t fit it all into one (or three) article(s).
I have put my blood, sweat and tears into my animals. I have spent seemingly endless nights outside in the barn with my animals. I know that some of my classmates will still call me “The Crazy Goat Lady,” but before you poke fun at me – understand this.