Goat Update

 

I think Sugar believes she is a giraffe as eating from the ground is not good enough.  She wants to reach up. 

Just before Mother’s Day Sugar stuck her head through the fence in order to eat the grape leaves. WE DID NOT PLANT the grapes, the trees, the blueberry bushes – ANY OF IT for her benefit.  Neither Jaime nor I were feeling well and certainly not up to goat chasing.  We squirted the goats back into Mary’s yard and I went around to secure the gate so they would have to stay in Mary’s yard.  Thus far it has worked.

There are surrounding yards that seem to have an overgrowth at the moment. I think Sugar might go to town with some surrounding yards.  But I am certain that she would not be satisfied for long and want to explore outside of those yards. 

Wounded Hand

        Whenever Sugar escapes and can’t figure how to get back, Cocoa bleats.  It’s like an alarm going off to warn us – though that may not be his intent.  Perhaps he feels left out.  Stupid goats.

          I should have probably just left her to fend for herself among the rocks, but I chose to go around and rescue her.  I don’t know what I was thinking.   There is no way I could have thrown the goat over the fence by myself.  Jaime helped me and we both got hurt in the process.

          Her wound wasn’t quite as visible – nor bleeding as mine was. 

It annoys me that the picture gives the impression of paint on my hand.  It’s blood.  I washed it and then took this one.

          I didn’t realize how far the scratch had gone.  Jai apologized that I had gotten hurt.  It wasn’t her fault.  And it certainly doesn’t compare to the injuries I would have received if she hadn’t helped me – or rather I helped her. 

          Her wound was from Sugar while mine was from the fence.  Darn Sugar.

          I noticed she uncovered the area where Cocoa had escaped just a month ago.  He had made it into our back neighbor’s yard – the one who used to house the menagerie – though it’s different people now. It’s a concrete wall!  Mary sent over her grandson to pull him out. 

          If they escape behind the concrete wall again, I’m not climbing the hill and pulling them out.  Hopefully the neighbors behind our yard and Mary’s won’t get upset.  The real hope would be that they don’t go over in the first place.

          Such a weird place for trying to keep protected.

The Grass is not Necessarily Greener

           We split our yard and kept the goats behind a fence we had secured – allowing them to graze almost a 3^rd of the yard.  It worked for almost three weeks and last night we received a call to let us know that the goats had managed to cross to the other side.

          The goats were staying in the yard at the top of the hill.  Richard and I were both very excited to see two of the “sticks” we planted now have blossoms – and so does the mysterious tree that I thought was a cherry but Richard thought apple.  I guess it’s apple; a daughter to a neighbor’s tree – though the once producing apple tree no longer exists.

          Richard and I spent three hours outside refiguring the fence and allowing more space for Sugar and Cocoa to roam.  When Cocoa returned to Mary’s yard, Richard was able to coax Sugar into crossing over also.  And then we shut the gate between our yard and Mary’s as we continued to secure the fence. 

          We put up a fence around one of the trees, patched where we thought there might be holes for Cocoa to escape (but Sugar cannot get through the holes as Cocoa can;  and really he’s the least mischievous goat of the two.) and I put a time limit and said we would have to return to the house by 6:00 – though we did not until almost 6:30. 

          We’d gone out this morning to tweak the security of the other tree as Sugar wants to eat the blossoms.  We’ll squirt the goats when we catch them doing something we don’t want them to do.  But we are not always out there to guard what we planted.

          There are a ton of weeded vines all throughout the yard.  Way more vines than there is grass.  Richard weed-wacked a small area and threw the weeds over the fence which Cocoa appreciated.  We had the gate shut and the goats were bothering Mary’s handy man.  But when we had finished with the tree we opened the gate and they were chowing down and seemed to enjoy it – though I noticed Sugar attempting to find an escape. 

          We’re not perfect by any means but are slowly finding a way – and enjoy having the animals do the work of mowing our lawn before summer hits – which is when we’d be mowing in Salt Lake.  But we don’t always have that option during fire season.  I have posted pictures.  We still have a hill in the yard.  Slopes. Slippery.  Wet . Muddy.  Looks as though it will rain again.  The goats don't like the rain.  I don't have a problem with it.  Most of the time I welcome it.

Makings of a Sitcom – only I’m crying instead of laughing.

 I heard the censor go off and thought that the missionaries were walking up the driveway.  Before I could get the door opened I heard Richard call:  “The goats are on the porch!”

They are Not our Goats! They were not our Chickens! and I have Absolutely no desire to be a homesteader! EVER!

Sugar likes to escape and lately Cocoa has been following her.  Last night they were both on the porch.  And then Bonnie got out and ran into the street to torment a dog larger than her. The larger dog was on a leash and being walked. Walker not happy with Bonnie.  I don’t blame him.

So Richard and I are trying to capture the goats with another neighbor.  None went after Bonnie.  And when Richard uncomfortably escorted Bonnie back in the house the goats got in.  Sugar climbed onto the coffee table to help herself to some bananas piled on the top of a bowl of fruit and Cocoa peed on our couch.  Richard fell during his struggles with Bonnie and I whipped Sugar while she dropped the bananas which had been yellow but are now badly bruised.

I did not sign up for this.  I should not have to deal with this chaos.  I want out! 

When we tried to coral sugar back into the yard (with more fencing in place, and Sunday attire once again) she hid behind the pepper planter and then decided to crawl underneath after Richard made efforts to torcher her with Bonnie’s leash)  I don’t know if they are still in the yard.  Nor do I care.  I am upset.  And I have shed tears over what hopefully one day I will be able to laugh at.  Because really, if I were to watch something like this on TV, I probably would laugh.

It's raining, but we did put up another fence - this time allowing them only a small portion of our yard rather than the entire yard.  Richard seems to think it will do the trick.  That's what he's thought at each attempt he's made to secure the yard.  We need to put a Bungi Chord around one of the gates to keep Bonnie in.

Bonnie does not feel well. She threw up by our bedroom door.  I don't know what it was.  

I washed her blankets and the bathroom rug. And now I am posting this to my blog.  I will send a link to Jaime.