Johnny is our buck goat. Almost every goat on the farm was sired by him. When folks from other farms see him they always comment on his superior size. He is a fine looking animal, even if usually foul smelling.
Johnny was born here, one of the first kids we had. A friend had given us Maggie, his mother, telling us she had not been bred. He was wrong about that. On a cold wet winter morning, while I was away from home, the man who was building a pasture fence for us came to the house to inform Cherie: “Your goat is having babies.”
Johnny didn’t stand for hours after he was born. He may well have died had Cherie and Peyton not intervened. He spent much of his first few days of life in Peyton’s lap.
He fully recovered of course and grew to be the impressive, virile buck that he now is. His temperament is exceptional. Never once has he displayed any aggression at all toward any human. We attribute his gentleness to those hours being held by Peyton.
I love the fact that our herd continues to produce quality kids from a buck like Johnny, who has no pedigree. Our kids do just as well, or better, than those from farms with expensive registered bucks.
But Johnny can get a little lazy sometimes. Instead of breeding the does when they’re ready, sometimes he’ll do nothing for weeks, waiting instead until a whole lot of them are in season, then breeding them all on the same day. Consequently we’ll end up with multiple nannies kidding on the same day, rather than spread out as I’d prefer.
So to help remedy this we added Ramon to the herd.
We bought Ramon from a neighboring farm, when he was about 7 months old. At that age he was no threat to Johnny, so they didn’t fight. Ramon has matured in the breeding paddock with Johnny and now they get along reasonably fine. Ramon’s presence inspires Johnny not to be so deliberate about his duties. Ramon will be all too happy to take care of any duties that Johnny neglects.
Ramon is a fine looking billy so we’d be happy to have some kids sired by him. But I don’t think Johnny will let that happen for a while.
Just a little slice of life here on White Flint.