Showdown at the OK Corral

or, goats - 2, Helen Jane - 0


Feeding time.  I come home from work, "suit up" by putting on my ski under garments, flannel-lined jeans, fleece top, hand-me-down (from Kay) down jacket, fleece warm-your-neck thingie I got in Santa Fe, ear muffs, hat and two pairs of gloves.  I go to the barn annex, sometimes known as my living room, where I'm keeping the goat/donkey/llama feed to keep it warm, loose and easy to scoop, and mix up the feed.

Feeding time was a lot easier when it was warmer and I could just fill the containers on my side of the fence from my yard.  Now that it's cold and sometimes snowing, I feed everyone in the barn.  I've learned that goats are extremely enthusiastic eaters, to say the least . . . extremely!  The first time I carried the bucket to the barn, I found out just how strong a goat's neck really is.  If they can get the tip of their chin over the edge, that's it, it's over  - - they're in, and once they're in so are at least three more.  So I got a little smarter and started carrying the bucket (full of feed) over my head.  That got a little tiring because you are surrounded by goats all wanting what you have, tripping you up, so I got even a little smarter.  I started putting the feed in an empty feed sack that I could carry under my arm and they couldn't get in to.  Then all the fun begins when I get to the barn.

They know what's coming.  I open the sack and scoop the feed into the different containers located around the barn.  It sounds simple enough, doesn't it.  But, along the same line as the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, goats also believe that the newest scoop has got to be the best.  They not only mob me at each "station" but anticipate when the feed will drop in, resulting in a lot of feed going on tops of heads.  I try to fake them out, but they are pretty darn quick.

Yesterday, I was reaching into the sack to start scooping and all of a sudden I was on the ground.  One of the goats blindsided me.  I found it amusing mainly because, although I was down, I wasn't in poop and wasn't being stepped on.  So I got up, distributed some feed and then down I went again.  This time it wasn't quite so funny, but still no poop and no stepping on.

Lately, Captain, Mary M and MJ have joined in the ruckus.  Captain insists on being hand fed from the scoop, so each time he sees the scoop coming out of the sack, he's there reaching for it and when the goats see the scoop, they think new food! and come after it -- quite a challenging exercise.  MJ will take over one of the feeding stations while the goats are rushing from one to the other, then snort and circle the pan with ears back and kicking out if anyone gets too close, so I have to make sure I don't get between him and the goats.  Mary M, thankfully, is still ever the lady. . . so far.