I can't keep Storm Cloud. He is the most beautiful goat on the face of the earth, but I can't. Bucks are just too troublesome. Even if I could use him to service all my does, which I can't, he still wouldn't be worth the trouble.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Bucks can't be left to run with the does year round. They must be separated for a good part of the year: separated from does which they aren't allowed to breed during breeding season, and separated from any pregnant or recently kidded does. If allowed, they will breed pregnant does, possibly causing abortions, and if allowed, they will breed does who have recently kidded, possibly causing injury and infection. They will also breed does who are too young to safely carry a kid to term. In fact, they will breed just about anything, anytime, anywhere.
To accomplish their evil aims, they will go over, under, around and through well-built fences, much less the teetery, tottery, tilted fences we have at our place. A healthy buck would destroy every fence on our property in short order.
Housing a buck separately would mess up the worm plan, effectively reducing my pastures from three to two.
Bucks stink, in season. If you have never inhaled the incredibly potent aroma of rutting buck balls, count yourself lucky. The smell clings to your clothes, your hair, to the very crevices of your brain for hours. I already walk around town smelling like chicken shit and horse sweat: do I really want to add another layer of funk to my personal perfume?
And the final nail in the coffin: while in rut, bucks will taint the milk of my lactating does, causing it to take on a faint, funky shadow of their own stench. Lest I forget, let me remind myself that milk is the whole point of this operation. Cheese. Yogurt. Kefir. Delicious, creamy, pure-as-the-driven-snow white milk.
I can't keep the world's prettiest goat. I'll have to just enjoy him while he's an adorable baby and try to sell him to somebody nearby, so that I can use him to breed back to next year.