Wowwie Row!

Today, Hubby and I were de-worming the goats (giving the meds to kill parasites) when a rather strange thing happened. Here is how it went.

We were running a little late, coming home from town and needing to de-worm the goats and sheep before Jon had to leave. Which meant that I'd be on my own if we didn't get it done then, or we'd have to put it off.
I ran into the house and got the Ivermectin off of the shelf with the syringe to draw it out. And not thinking, I left the cap on the bottle. It's about an inch diameter so I thought I'd just throw it in my sweat shirt pocket. As things got going and we began catching the goats and dosing them, our oldest doe named "Row" affectionately after my Mom's pet name, began pestering us. We'd dosed her and moved onto the other does. But she kept after us, following us around and nosing in. Anyone who knows anything about goats knows that they're masters at this!

I thought it was really weird, because I'd expect that the de-wormer is really bitter (we give it to them on their tongue) and thought no one in their right mind would want to eat it. Although Row is a strange sort. She's probably 10 years old, which is a pretty good age for a goat. They do live several years longer, but does that have had kids every year slow down pretty young. She's a little slow poke who has a nose for trouble. I just didn't think she'd actually do something as stupid as reach into my pocket and grab the cap and make a mad dash for the other side of the lot! I didn't know she could move quite so fast. But she did, as if she knew what she'd done was bad. I ran after her, leaving poor Jon holding a squirmy, squawking little goat ready for his dose. I sensed that there would be trouble. Now usually, our goats will realize that something plastic is actually not edible and will drop it and go on. But I guess Row is just too far over the hill. Or something. Because instead of dropping it out of boredom, and the realization that "Hey, I can't eat this!" she tries to swallow it! So here I am, holding her in a headlock because she's positive that this is some prized delicious morsel that I want to steal for myself, and I'm sticking my whole free hand in her mouth trying to fish the cap out. Now, I've stuck my hand in a goat mouth before and it left me hurting. Their back teeth are really sharp. And very powerful. Hence the ability to grind up twigs and small branches. But this time, luckily my hand is fine. And Row didn't swallow that danged cap!!

Now that I know that Row has lost her marbles, I'll be much more careful! =)

Cheers!!

What's in a name?

What kind of name is ~Stall Tails~, you might ask. Well, there is a pretty good story to go with it and it goes like this.

A few years ago when my now husband, moved onto my family's farm, we were given a old Pig shed to use for our newly acquired chickens (and other things..) to roost in. And you can see in this picture (taken of Ice storm damage) that the shed is made up of several compartments that are probably 5 by 6 feet each. They each have their own door with locks to keep predators out.

Anyway. We had/have several sheds and try to keep a 'nickname' going for them all so we can easily know which one we're talking about and Jon called it, "the Chicken Stable". He grew up on a farm in another state, that only had cows. He said they'd had goats and ducks at one time, and his Grandpa had chickens but he'd never raised chickens before himself. So the name stuck as a running joke. Now we use it as a goat shed, with a dinky 'milk room', where we trim hooves and have shorn sheep before. the chickens moved into that 'stall' and keep it too messy to actually milk the goats in. Two other 'stalls' house our two Pot Bellied Hogs for the winter (you can't see in this pic, because the electricity is out, but there are heat lamps for the pigs). And the other 'stall' is just for goats to sleep in, along with another three sided shed in another part of this winter lot. The rest of the time, the animals roam around 'free range'. But it's just been too cold, and we've had fall kids (baby goats) so they have to be up by the house. But we still call it The Chicken Stable.

So yeah, that's how this blog got it's name.. cause it's all about the odd and quirky goings on, on the farm. I'll post from time to time about silly little incidents and not so humorous happenings.