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Mini farm mishaps

#minifarm #minifarmlife #babychicks #bottlebabygoat #nigeriandwarfgoat


This last week has been all about learning. Lots and lots of learning people. But I promised to tell y'all about my fear of chickens first, so we'll start there.


Like most of my fears, the chicken one is a little irrational. They're smaller than me and their brains are minuscule. But still, they scare me. I don't like unpredictability, and to me, poultry are extremely unpredictable. I never know what they're thinking or what they'll do next. I can't judge their movements...all of it scares me. This week when we cleaned out their cage, my five year old had to move them from one box to another because every time I went to grab one, I chickened out. Hahaha. Anways, I have no idea what's going to happen when they are full grown.


On the Boulder side of things; we've got tummy issues. At first I thought it was the move or the new stuff he's grazing on in our yard. But it got real bad and it is still bad. This little spoiled man gets like two baths a day. I read that goats don't like baths. Well google, this one does. He loves warm bubble baths to wash his tush. I'm starting to think he sh*ts like Tasmanian Devil on purpose.

I did learn this afternoon that we need to switch the milk we give him. Apparently formula is really hard on their tiny tummies. And it's also the reason he's still so small. Now, Boulder's milk is the most expensive milk in the fridge. We switched it yesterday, fingers crossed by tonight he'll be sh*tting like a normal goat.

Side note: Is this TMI? Like a new mom talking about her kids poop is TMI? I'm throwing out some things I've learned in case any of you lovely people decide that goats are your next good idea, that's all.


We also attempted to get Boulder a lady friend. Roadie {Stoli named her} was a silver buckskin and she was super prissy. She was dam raised {meaning she'd only nursed off her mom and had never had a bottle} but the people we got her from assured us she'd make the transition just fine.


Well as any mom will tell you, that's not always the case. And that wasn't how it went with Roadie. After three days of her refusing to eat, screaming for her mom, and me about to collapse on the floor and cry...I received a text from the couple we bought her from. They were asking how she was and when I told them what was happening, they offered to give us our money back and come pick her up. Apparently her mom was running around the field crying for her baby. Broke. My. Heart! They said Roadie was her first kid and they didn't know how it would go. So...we quickly got Roadie back with her momma.


happy to be back with her mom

Now I'm not sure what I want to do. Boulder is such a pet at this point...I don't know how he'd react if we tried to put him in a pen with another goat. He'd probably get pissed and promptly ask someone to go fetch his warm organic goats milk bottle.

I'll figure it out, simply because I have to. He's my goat...and they're my chickens. And this is my circus. Hahahaha get it?


Also, in my messages someone mention how much they enjoyed the shirtless men I usually put at the end of my posts. So. You're welcome.


Love, LP



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