Honey, the large red doe at center, was from the start my favorite goat. She loved me and would give me kisses, and who doesn't like to be adored?
She gave birth to the twin boys this spring, and we attempted to milk her . . . only to discover that she had poorly placed,tiny teats and terrible behavior on the milk stand. Eventually, we gave up on milking her.
Another local breeder paid a visit to our farm the other day and, liking Honey's bloodlines, offered us a pretty penny for her.
A good farmer would sell her. After all, what good is she to us? We can't milk her, so she's nothing more than a strain on our resources.
Turns out, I may not be a good farmer. I told Girl 1, who's spending the week at her grandparents', about the offer when I talked to her on the phone. "What?! If Dad sold Honey before I even got home to say goodbye, I'd just have to stay here awhile until I could get over it enough to come home! What are we gonna do? Are we gonna have a family meeting and vote on it?" It seems she may not be a good farmer either.
There's a chance she'll settle down a little and be better behaved on the milk stand next year. It's not likely her anatomy will get much better, though, so she'd still be difficult to milk. The breeder who made us the offer has a milk machine, so a less-than-ideal udder is really not a big deal to her.
So . . . what to do, what to do. Maybe we will put it to a vote once Girl 1 gets home.