And Glory Bee has turned into something rich and strange. (Name that Shakespeare play!)
She’s been broken to the lead, and while I’m still working on getting her to willingly come to me, she is not the wild calf that she was not too long ago.
There’s a new sheriff in town and it’s me.
She did enjoy some half-wild moments this week when her halter came off and I let her cavort around at will in the goat yard, nursing mommy any time she wanted.
I took a couple days off milking because she never leaves me any when she has a full access pass. I let her have these few shining days because I knew I was about to take mommy away.
This weekend, we put Beulah Petunia back in her wonderland, freeing the goats of her heavy stomp in their yard.
She was upset when she realized Baby hadn’t come with her.
(Insert angry cow noises.)
Here’s Glory Bee in the pen with her halter back on.
(Insert angry calf growling. Yes, she growls.)
For the next few days, I’m going to keep Glory Bee penned while I train her to (finally) see me as food while I let her milk her mommy at the same time. I’m setting up temporary shop milking BP just outside the goat pen, bringing Glory Bee out on a lead to nurse after I finish milking. (Getting BP over there is no problem. She watches me put her food in a big wash tub and when I open the gate, she can’t run over there fast enough.)
Hopefully in a few days Glory Bee will catch on to the routine then I can let her out of the pen and back into the goat yard. The idea is that she will come to me as the “food source” because when she sees BP outside the goat pen chowing down and getting milked, she’ll know it’s her turn next. BUT she has to come to ME to get through the gate. I am the ticket to mommy. And I’m bringing mommy enticingly close to rub it in.
Well, that’s THE PLAN.
It’s good to have BP out of the goat yard. It’s not an area meant to house a dinosaur. She was pretty hard on the yard. It’s an area designed for goats. A few donkeys for the winter, okay. But not a dinosaur.
Baby goat between the legs of a dinosaur.
I was a little bit worried she’d step on a baby or something.
Sailor: “But I was gonna get a ladder–
–and milk her!”