I waited a couple of weeks after she arrived before I tried to milk her. She had been milked at her previous home, and knew the drill. She'd hop up on the milk stand and enjoy a meal while I fumbled about and tried to learn the art of getting the warm, white liquid out of the goat and into the pail. Luna was patient with me and it wasn't too long before I had mastered the skill. It is a peaceful thing... milking. There is a pleasant rhythm to the work.
To be honest, I was hesitant to try the goat milk at first. I had my husband pour a glass of cows milk and one of goat milk, and let me blind taste test. I didn't know what to expect, but I suspected I wouldn't like the stuff. Happily, I was wrong. Cool, sweet and creamy, we soon stopped buying cows milk altogether. It makes me happy to look into the refrigerator and see neat jars of fresh milk lined up in a row.
Once her kid was weaned and sold to another farmer, Luna produced more milk that we could consume. We fed it to the chickens, we fed it to some young pigs we raised, we fed it to the dogs and gifted it to neighbors. Milk from our little farm has gone to feed orphaned lambs, piglets whose mama was sick and couldn't nurse them, orphaned goats and once even a baby cow that couldn't digest formula.
It amazes me that goats can turn scrub and grass, hay and grain, into delicious, nourishing milk. My husband quips, "They are pets with benefits."