Now that the excess hair is gone, it’s time to remove all that flaky skin and stubborn dirt. As much as Cuzco hates to be squirted with water, he has no idea how good he has it. We have a hot water tap outside!! Now how many goats in the world have that particular luxury??

Rub-a-dub-dub, we could use a tub. This is the part Cuzco loves best, as you can see by his expression. Just like a massage.

Toweling off is pretty nice too.

The finished product: Cool and dapper and ready to conquer the summer!

It’s time for Cuzco’s annual spring cleaning. Look at that scruffy winter coat! Time for that hot, itchy, ratty old thing to go!

Cuzco generally seems to enjoy the clippers and willingly stands still for most of this rather tedious process. This is good because we’ve never owned a stanchion.

But then, who needs a stanchion when Nanno is so good at the leg-lock technique? The back end is the hardest. That’s where the hair is longer and more matted so the clippers yank and pull. And when the clippers yank and pull, Cuzco starts to yank and pull and that’s my cue to grab a hind leg and make him stand still anyway. Poor goat–I do my best to be gentle.

All done clipping, and what a handsome fella he is under all that winter scruff!

Lilly the rubber-necked owl goat really gets into her brushing time.

It’s that time of year when I wax nostalgic about my college days, and this year is particularly significant because it is the 10th anniversary of my graduation. I graduated from Houghton College on May 12, 2003. Cuzco was in attendance at that proud event and had the honor of displaying my tassel.

Actually, he spent more time trying to eat it than show it off, but he wore it well in any case.

We even shook hands with President Chamberlain, who loved goats. He grew up milking his nanny goat every morning because he was allergic to cow’s milk, so he approved of Cuzco’s attendance at my ceremony.

We got two feet of snow yesterday and Lilly was very helpful. She got right down to work and shoveled the walkway for us! 

It’s a good time of year to post pictures of goats in coats! Nibbles loves to wear a blanket and she always keeps hers neat and clean and properly in place.

Lilly has a very different opinion of blankets. Here is a rare shot where it’s still on properly. Usually by morning she has at least one leg through the neck hole or no blanket at all, and she somehow always manages to pee on it even if it’s still on. She’s managed to open or tear off most of the buckles at one time or another. Good thing I know how to sew!

Cuzco is picky about coats, but he loves this one and keeps it neat accordingly.

Cuzco was not always so good to his blankets. There’s hope for Lilly yet!

Nibbles got bred last month, which she was very excited about… more excited than the buck. He was a laid-back kinda guy and she started swatting at him and biting his ears when he wouldn’t get down to business right away. This is the fella we bred her to.

He’s about 18 months old, and the only thing I’m not sure I cared for were his small feet and long pasterns. But I think his feet just haven’t caught up to him yet. Colts usually go through a stage after a growth spurt where they look like they’ve got teacup feet until the slower-growing hooves finally catch up to the rest of them. Hopefully that’s the case here. Even if it’s not, Nibbles has very nice feet and really short pasterns so maybe she’ll balance him out. Ain’t nobody perfect!

Nibbles made a scene at the gas station on the way to the breeding. She decided to jump from the roof of her igloo to the roof of my truck.

Then she pulled a rude face at me when I tried to get her to come down.

Eventually, after a good bit of coaxing and wheedling, she slid down the windshield onto the hood where I could reach her. Nibbles was disappointed when I moved the igloo further back to where she could no longer use it as a springboard to higher places.

This little sweetheart has wormed her way into my affections in ways I never thought a goat could do. While she’ll probably never win any awards for impressive size or conformation, if she were human she would be the envy of every woman in America. This would be the girl we’d all hate because she could down three cheeseburgers and half a pizza every day and still fit in size 2 jeans.

Even though Lilly gets three all-you-can eat meals of grain a day and 24-hour access to hay, she stays thin as a rail. Yet I’m convinced she’s not unhealthy because she’s been thoroughly wormed and I’ve never seen a brighter eye or a springier step. She doesn’t walk anywhere–she runs. No, more correctly, she streaks. She’s our “Flash Gordon” goat who is here one second and 100 yards away the next. Be it the house or the truck, no door is safe. Any time one opens even a crack, Lilly is already jumping on it, even if she was on the other side of the yard before you blinked. If I were in the racing goat business, Lilly would be my prize filly. Lilly has also been honing her Ninja skills. She has a habit of running up the wall of the house and doing backflips off it. I wonder if Phil has been letting her watch Kung Fu movies?

But while she is a little ball of energy most of the time, Lilly also loves the quiet moments. If I’m chopping firewood and I sit down on a stump for a few minutes’ break, Lilly is in my lap with her head on my chest before I’m even settled. And she would likely stay there for hours if I let her. She’s a pure sweetheart, no two ways about it.

We had pumpkin pancakes at Thanksgiving, and they were very yummy. But I forgot to use up the left-over pumpkin and didn’t find it till sometime after Christmas (eeeewwww!). Nibbles thought the fuzzy green stuff on top looked festive.

But it wasn’t as festive as the end of her greedy little nose.
  
Lilly wanted some moldy pumpkin for her nose too, but this is where it ended up instead, thanks to Nibbles’ habit of biting Lilly’s ears whenever there is a confrontation over food.

I made this in 2009 when my colt, Skokie, was about 2 months old.

I had some heart-to-heart talks with Cuzco a couple of years later when he would come in from the pasture on three legs and with chunks torn out of his hide: “You know, Cuzco, the problem with making enemies of a baby horse is that one day he will bigger. MUCH bigger. And you’ll wish you’d made friends when you had the opportunity.”

I was really afraid Cuzco might not survive Skokie’s 2-year-old phase, but I can’t say he didn’t ask for it. Skokie tried really hard to befriend Cuzco during that first year, but he was soundly rebuffed at every turn.

“Well Cuzco, what goes around comes around.”