Last weekend we left home to spend some time in the Black Hills with Tom and Rob. We got in three hikes in three days.
On one hike a buffalo bull we skirted around decided to see if he could make us shit our pants and took off running toward us. He wasn’t entirely successful, our pants remained clean; he gave us a full-throttle thrill, though. But when the four of us stood together to face him off, he stopped and watched us for a while. Then he sauntered off like he was bored.
We started a new chapter for our little farm on Thursday: we went to Bozeman and picked up six baby goats from Amaltheia Dairy. (They make excellent cheese, by the way.)
So, now we’re bottle-feeding them three times a day.
They were actually two to three weeks old, which is a good time to get them. We’ve had goats before, but we got those first ones when they were already full grown. We’re raising these goats to see if that could be an annual thing or maybe even if we want to get a trio to raise some every year. I’m thinking we’ll just get a few every spring from the dairy so we don’t have to feed a trio hay through the winter. We chose goats over sheep because I don’t want to have to shear them every year.
Here are three of them checking Ben out very closely in an attempt to find a hidden nipple with extra milk.
They were terribly disappointed, though.
They follow us around like puppies, so we can exercise them in the corral before we lock them back up in a pen we built in the barn so they stay safe and out of trouble.