Kids and sweetness...

 

There is something about goat kids. Most people find them undeniably attractive. Personally, I find them to be enchanting. This picture is of my goat, Plenty, when she was a kid. (Thanks to Rock Bottom Farm for letting me use their photo.) 

Right after Christmas, we took Plenty and Happy to the farm where we bought them so they could have romantic rendezvous with some attractive young bucks. Because. We want kids. We also want milk, which comes along with kids, but mostly? We want hopping, bopping, leaping, twisting, soft, sweet-smelling, and adorable baby goats. We want to watch them and cuddle them and laugh about them. They are joy on tiny hooves. 

Since it was very cold when we drove them to the farm, the most patient and generous son in love in the world let us borrow his Prius to transport them so they wouldn't get a chill in the back of the truck. The problem with putting goats in a car is that they are not housebroken. Or car broken. Let me be blunt. They poop. And pee. Though in this case, they only pooped, which is good because goats poop tidy little pellets that are pretty easy to clean up. Pee is never easy. 

The goats were perfectly cozy in the back of the car and rode like the ladies that they are, except for the aforementioned pooping. I regret I wasn't fast enough to catch a photo of a lady passenger of a car that drove past us as she hung out the window with her jaw dropped, looking at goats in the car. 

Once we arrived at the farm, we convinced the girls to walk up the driveway, past the barn, to a gate where we popped them through so they could join the herd. 

This picture is inside the barn. We actually put them into a big pasture. I just wanted you to understand that there are quite a few goats. This is just some of them. The day we dropped them off, the quite a few goats hung back, cautiously watching to see what we were about. The very large guard dog placed its vast body between us and his herd. The farmer opened the gate and popped Plenty through it. Instantly, one of the goats in the herd ran to her. "Oh," said the farmer. "That is  your goat's mother." The two goats had last seen each other over two years ago. She then hustled Happy through the gate. Again, one goat from the cautious herd broke rank and ran to see Happy. "Oh," said the farmer. "That is your goat's daughter." 

We were all rather touched by the sweetness of the goats recognizing their family member and quickly welcoming them in. The farmer reported that the mothers and daughters all hung out with one another, eating and resting side by side during their stay. 

We brought the girls home yesterday (again in the generously loaned car, so they got to stay toasty.) There was some head-butting and jostling once they arrived, but everyone has settled down. I'm glad the girls are back; I missed their whimsical little faces. 

Now, we will sit back and happily anticipate kids in June.  And more sweetness. We can't get enough of either.