And she loved her mama so much!
And look, she’s still doin’ that!
Okay, here’s what happened. And it’s almost miraculous! I decided, since we were going to be taking the sheep down, I should get Glory Bee out of the goat yard, too. The goats need their yard back to themselves. They need greedy eat-it-to-the-ground sheep outta there, and they need the big stomping calf out of there, too. Despite the fact that moving Glory Bee around anywhere is like trying to move a Tasmanian Devil having an atomic spasm, and has in the past involved at least two people (one of them being male), and ropes, I decided I was going do it all by my lil ol’ self.
It was an experiment!
An adventure, if you will.
And guess what? I took her out of the goat yard all by myself. It wasn’t even that difficult. What is that about? Could she be growing up, at long last? Heady with my brat calf management skills, I was ready for the next step–making some separation between BP and the brat. Because the brat doesn’t realize she’s really not a calf anymore. She’s a heifer. And heifers aren’t supposed to be milking their mamas.
It’s wrong on so many levels!
So we got this little system together. The front area of BP-land is now sectioned off, surrounded by an electric fence that keeps Glory Bee away from BP–when I want her away from BP. It’s two-strand electric here, to keep her from trying to nurse under the fence. (It’s one-strand around the rest of BP-land.)
The fence has a temporary gate, which isn’t made of anything more than the wires and hooks. I pull the wires across and hook them on to the other side to shut the “gate” when I want them separated, then open it back up when they can be together.
Between this post and the tree is the opening, when I have the wires pulled back so they can pass through and be together.
To close it, I hook the wires across the opening.
To open, pull then back and hook them out of the way.
Glory Bee is bigger than she used to be. She knows and respects the electric fence now. I haven’t had any trouble with her trying to cross the fence when it’s pulled shut.
She sits up on the hill and watches mommy. (See her through the trees on the hill above BP?)
I keep them separated overnight so I can get the first milking of the day–instead of Glory Bee. When I’ve had mine, I open the temporary gate and they’re together again.
Glory Bee waits and watches. She knows when the sound of the milking machine stops, mommy’s coming.
The amazing part here is that I’ve had no trouble at all managing Glory Bee to get her back out of BP’s holding area at the front each evening.
Now that I’ve typed all that out loud, Glory Bee’s probably going to stomp on my head tomorrow, but so far, so good! If she keeps up with this kind of cooperative behavior, I’m going to have to stop calling her the bad baby! Except for the part where she’s still taking most of my milk. I milk BP then take her back, open the temporary gate, and watch Glory Bee latch on and milk her again.
I think BP might be holding out on me.
And that possibly this whole show of cooperation is part of a big plot.
The situation is under investigation and a person of interest has been identified.