For several weeks things remained pretty much the same with the 2 newcomers in the back garden. I’d called them Starlight and Moonlight – nice names : not that that made any difference. I began to wonder if these goats would ever settle down.
Meantime, I’d been given a Boer doe who had never held to service. She was basically pretty tame – though even ‘tame’ can have its moments.
I’d put her in a small yard by the main shed overnight, and when I went up in the morning my black lab, Ben went hooning on ahead of me. Spooked, she cleared a full height timbered goat-sized double-fenced race, landing herself in a small side-paddock. I was flabbergasted – this was a big doe and she’d cleared the fencing from a standing start.
I swung back the gates and soon had her in with the main mob. She became the leader.
Finally I decided the strangers just couldn’t stay where they were any longer, so not wanting to trouble my neighbour again, I’d try and get them up to the paddock on my own. My back garden is anything but goatproof and I knew if I bungled this and either of them got away from me, they would leap the netting fence at the bottom and take off down the drive on their way to the bush.
I tackled the more difficult one first, and had a drama getting the chain untangled from round the standard. With a highly active goat zapping about full bore on the other end, you have to be pretty smart getting your fingers out of the way before they get cut off. Finally I got the chain off the standard and we pranced up the hill between the trees in a zigzag fashion, the goat doing her best to keep as much distance between us as was caprinely possible.
The relief when I get her through the second gate and elbowed it to behind me was huge. I couldn’t get her collar off, because at one point earlier it had started to work loose and at great risk to life and limb I’d tightened it up with a knot. But it would do meantime – the opportunity would come one day to cut it off her.
The second goat was equally flighty, but less strong. I got her by the collar somehow and can remember picking my way very carefully up the hill to make sure I didn’t slip and lose my grip – it was muddy underfoot and the slope under the trees was slippery in parts.
Finally there they both were – in the paddock with the others. They took off together and kept their distance for days, and I carried on feeding out in the big trough every evening.
Dawn, Rheema and Rheema's Kids
At first they wouldn’t come anywhere near, but gradually they came closer and finally they realised there was food. After a few days they were eating with the others, though they would stand back and wait until I’d moved away before they came forward. The first steps towards settling them in were over.
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The previous post reminds me of a nail-biting drama I got into in the days of my mom’s illness when Mozilla and Rheema sometimes wandered outside the boundary fence.
When I’d finished as much repair work as I could on the fence, I went down to look at what was going on. Of course, there was another broken batten. The animals were all further along well past the gate, so I took a chance, opened the gate and set out to drive The Pretender down to be with the others. Laying out a $7 waratah every time they broke a batten was starting to wear a bit thin.
We left the goat story with Rheema safely contained in the lower paddock, and her progeny still outside the boundary fence in the bush.
