From 1976 to 1984 I lived in Mississippi and raised some goats, children and chickens. These are four of the goats. They needed their hoofs trimmed. I could talk their language. Recently I realized that it would have been a lot less trouble to go buy a couple of gallons of milk instead of milking all those goats twice a day, buying their feed and trying to keep them confined before I gave that up and just let them wander the area, losing garden after garden as they figured out how to break in and eat it. However, it was an experience for the whole family that would not have been replicated by buying milk.
You can read more about those years in these posts:
Rt 1 Box 38 – The Luba Project
R Is For route 1 Box 173 & 1/2
13 thoughts on “Me and My Goats”
Well I’m envious you did it. Now the idea of it wears me out, but I wish I’d taken a chance like this.
I think it was a good experience, over all, but I never should have bought that second batch of goats. I should have kept their yard small and tight instead of stringing fencing over hill and dale making it a walk in the park for them to get out.
Wow, you really had a goat herd! I read your other posts about them too. It would have been a wonderful experience for your children, even if getting milk from the goats was hard work to start with.
It wasn’t exactly hard work, just everlasting. Surely provided a host of memories and some experiences they wouldn’t have had otherwise.
And a pig.
Ah, yes, how could I forget Elizabeth? She made delicious ham and bacon in the end.
If you hadn’t had those goats, you wouldn’t have this wonderful photograph. 🙂
Very true. That makes it all worthwhile. That and the memories. And the skills if I am ever zapped back into the past where I am a goat girl.
So true. I take my hat off to you – but mind the goats dont eat it!
In my experience goats didn’t eat clothes, hats etc. I hung the clothes out to dry and they never ate a bite. Just plants.
Great photo. And yeah, I wonder why people choose to own farm animals when they don’t have to, or when it’s not part of your job.
One of my uncles was allergic to cow’s milk as a child and it wasn’t like you could just go down to the store and buy any other kind of milk in rural 1950s Newfoundland, so my grandfather bought and kept a goat just for him. From the stories I’ve heard it was a big pain in the butt, too.
We were back to the landers. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
They look affectionate and curious, shop purchases would not be a good substitute for the companionship.
Comments are closed.