-- We had visiting cows again, three black heifers that wandered up and down the cross-fencing and then went through the pond and into our hayfield. When we moved here, our new neighbors were quite upset that we had goats. "They'll be out all the time" and "they'll be in the road," we heard. I think it's quite comical that my goats have not been a problem, but the neighbors' cows have been. We've had cows on our property belonging to four different neighbors. To be fair, my horses did escape once and visit a neighbor's hay meadow, and our dog wanders all over the countryside.
-- I know that disbudding goats is a hot topic, with a lot of passion on both sides. This is why I disbud my kids: this week I sold one of the buck kids, Ezekiel. As the buyer picked him up to carry him to the truck, the kid threw his head back and banged the top of his skull into the side of my face. I heard a THUD, and ended up with a sore jaw, a bad headache, and a black-and-blue patch on my face. Can you imagine if he'd had horns? Can you imagine that instead of my face, he'd hit a child or grandchild? I know we all have our reasons for disbudding or not disbudding; this is mine. Let's not judge each other for our decisions.
-- Cracker, our coyote-chasing dog, killed an adolescent raccoon yesterday behind the barn. My riding buddy and I witnessed the short tussle from horseback. Cracker was the clear winner, and had not a mark on him. He watched the corpse for awhile - maybe he thought it would come back to life as a zombie or something. It was kind of creepy to think that the raccoon was in the brush less than 15 feet from the round pen where we were riding.
My hope is to inspire you, and to encourage your homesteading plans and your dreams of a