Get my Goat

When you live on ten acres, farmhouse set back off the road, surrounded by woods, you don’t see a lot of action. Both of us with public health careers, the gated entrance & peaceful solace is a therapeutic necessity. Never in a million years expecting this…

“Grab Kellee hurry..get her inside..hurry!” A calm but urgent tone radiating from my captain hubby’s commanding voice.

I have learned from living with this man for 22 years, never to second guess his sense of urgency. Not a sound I hear very often coming from my very reserved first responder. One to never overreact OR react in general. I turn on my heels, grabbing my elderly yellow laborador by the collar, rushing her inside the enclosed farm house porch.

Closing the door behind me, I return to the scene to see a very stout brown animal scurry past the people standing outside. The animal pushes through the door of our smaller guest house. A former wood shop transformed into a family gathering place on our historic farm.

Screams radiating from inside. I rush inside to confront what appears to be a very large Bull Mastiff. Having never seen this animal in our neighborhood before, I gently reach my hand out to him. My elderly in-laws huddled behind the couch. Our young daughter standing on top clutching a pillow, overcome in fear. I call to the dog, “Here Boy, Good Boy…Come..Come!”

A self proclaimed dog whisperer, I am surprised at this animals lack of response. Emptiness fills it’s eyes. A predatory dog on a mission. Shivers run down my spine. No connection to the humans surrounding him whatsoever.

“Show no fear”, I calmly say to the terror filled human eyes surrounding me, while my own body trembles. Having had dogs my entire life, I have never seen a canine look quite like that.

While my hubby & I work together to try to coherce the beefy animal back outside. My sister-in-law scurries along the driveway to rush her toddler grandson to her truck, parked a few feet away. They were visiting the farm, so little Wyatt could play with our 2 young goats. Oh no the goats!

I had them out of their pen for a short time with the toddler. The dog pushes his way past my hubby, knocking into my legs and exits the building, while I quickly rush out behind him to gather the goats.

One of the young wethers, Nubs, aptly named for his uneven horns from botched disbudding. My daughters first goat, rescued from a overcrowded hobby farm. He looks at the dog and turns to bolt, as any prey animal would. The raging wolf-like canine quickly takes chase, it’s not long before he has little Nubsie in his grasp, chomping down on his skinny neck. The sweet innocent goat screeching in pain, paralyzed in fear.

In seconds, but what feels like ages playing out in slow motion, I am on top of the dog, desperately punching the animal in the head. Grasping the upper jaw, a proven technique, working to get the animal to release my daughter’s beloved goat. Screams, both animal and human, radiate from everywhere. I have never felt such a powerful animal under my grasp. None of my efforts work, but I will not let this goat die in front of my daughter today.

My elderly father-in-law, yelling from the guest house begging me to get out of there. From the corner of my eye, I see my young son exiting the doorway. Concerned that he’s coming to my aid, he takes off running in the opposite direction. My kindergartner still screeching from inside. I thrust everything I have into my attempt to tackle this powerful animal, jaws literally locked shut. He does not budge. I repeatedly punch him in the head over and over again. Goat hollering a gut wrenching, ear piercing, bleating scream.

My hubby, fearful of dogs, having been brutally attacked by a pack of dogs as a child, runs to get his gun. My brother-in-law grabbing a tire iron from the back of his truck. Launching numerous blows to the dogs back. Miraculously, and after what felt like an eternity, the unwelcome monster let’s go of the goat.

The animal teeth bared in rage, turns and runs straight at my husband. Still grappling with the bullet box, spilling them all over the garage floor. We all scream. One shot echoes out, as the dog staggers around the corner, dropping dead instantly in our grape orchard. The whole scene happened so fast. We all stand in shock.

Still holding on tightly to Nubs, feeling his trembling body, blood literally spouting straight out of his neck, screaming in pain. With all my might, I heft this 80 pound animal into the canopy of my Toyota farm truck, before the stunned men can even blink an eye. Speeding in desperation out of the driveway, fully expecting my daughter’s sweet goat to perish a painful death in the bed of a dusty old truck. Overwhelmed in panic, I rush off to my large animal vet, dialing the clinic as I exit our gate.

In the clinic atbay, the veterinarians work to stabilize Nubs with an IV, while plugging the gaping holes in his neck. I watch his trembling little limp body in shock, his sweet slanted eyes pleading to me. Goats are literally the kindest farm animals that ever lived. I am overcome with sadness for the little guy. The vet says his jugular vein has been punctured, but thankfully all neck bones appear intact. He has lost alot of blood and may not make it. How will my daughter ever recover from losing her first ever baby goat? They treat him with heavy antibiotics for his wounds. He will need to stay the night at the hospital for monitoring, as infection is likely to follow.

Meanwhile at the farm, some neighbors heard all the screaming and called 911. Officers arrive, along with animal control quickly behind. Apparently, this is the second bull mastiff on a killing spree this day. One had been killing chickens at a farm down the road and was also shot by the farm owner. The officer working to find out if there is a connection between this dog and the other, as she takes the body away in her van.

Leaving Nubsie in good care, I return back to the farm. As I pull in, I see the animal control van driving away down our road. Grateful not to be home to witness all of that, this was someone’s dog. An extreme animal lover, my heart can not bear to think about that right now.

We gather together with grandparents in the guest house, hugging and recapping what in the hell just happened. Our little one wrapped around my legs, traumatized & shaken. Reassuring her that little Nubsy will be okay and we can go visit him in the hospital tomorrow. My hubby stands broken, feeling terrible about having taken down the animal in defense. The other men reassuring him that it was a dangerous animal and could have seriously injured or killed any one of us. Thank goodness it didn’t grab a child or the little visiting toddler cousin. My gut aches reflecting on what could have happened if a child had started running, triggering a chase. Nubs literally was the sacrificial goat. We are all immensely grateful.

My sweet strong husband explains how he saw the animal coming. Watching him crawl under the fence, entering our field. He grew concerned when the animal blew past the chickens, heading straight for the house. It was a beautiful sunny spring day, family gathered outside with the kids playing in the sunshine with our animals. He didn’t want to disrupt the moment, but his instincts were spot on. It was as if this animal was on a mission, seeking out something specific. “That’s when I yelled for you to grab our dog”. As we recap the experience, everyone’s nerves begin to calm. Tears and shock remain in my young daughters eyes.

“Where is Will?” My mother-in-law interrupts. A true grandmas boy, she notices that he is missing before his own mother does. I’ll never deserve an award for the most endearing mother, that is for sure. That title belongs to Grandma Rose.

I rush out of the guest house and around the building, to find my brave 4th grader still huttled in the underground, cement room of the guest house. I take him by the hand and lead him back inside. We all chuckle..Thats our brave boy, making sure to save himself first!

A little guy of few words..he wraps his arms around his Amma expressing his relief with those big brown eyes. My little introvert, always deep in thought, asking if there will be cake & returning to his video game. This kid always associating cake during any family event.

Night falls. Everything seems to return to normal. Kids tucked away to bed. The singular goat, Wilson crying out in the distance for his friend. If you’ve ever had goats, then you know that a lone goat is a very noisy goat. The vet calls with an update on Nubs. Still sedated, radiography shows nothing broken, tough little dude hanging strong. She will know more in the morning.

I head outside to lock up the chickens and comfort Wilson. I hear a man’s voice in the distance calling for his dog. I rush inside asking my husband to join me outside, wondering if there is a connection. A gut wrenching sound in the darkness, I have been there before. We decide to leave a message for the animal control officer, asking that she contact us in the morning.

Sunrise on the farm, roosters crowing, scrambling to get kids fed and off to school. We hear a car pulling up the driveway. The animal control officer has returned with some bad news. Turns out there is no connection to the other Bull Mastiff that she took in. The one that attacked us actually belonged to our neighbor, just two doors down. My heart sinks. I don’t know the man well, but I do recall him as one of our kind neighbors that helped look for our lost dog. (See https://willabellafarm.com/2020/08/24/kellee-dogs-story/).

Feeling physically ill, and thankful for a recent promotion to Corporate accounts, affords me the ability to cancel all conference calls and take the day off to begin to process the magnitude of this random event.

The kind officer gently explains that the neighbor was out of town, leaving the dog in his estranged wife’s care. She apparently neglected the dog and hence he broke out of his enclosure. There is always more than meets the eye in the unique behavior of animals, especially dogs. The officer further tells us that the animal had been required to be contained, because it had attacked a jogger with a small dog a few months ago. I felt sad for my neighbor, but realized that a dog that size with an aggressive history could have killed someone. We had to give away a herding dog many years ago, due to some aggressive behavior toward humans, so I get it.

Days passed, I felt a lump in my throat knowing that we would eventually need to contact the dog owner. Not to mention the $3k in emergency vet bills I needed to discuss with him.

That evening, I peer out the window to see the dog owner standing in our driveway. My hubby emerging from the guest house to confront him. I quickly stop doing dishes and rush outside. My hubby taking a strong stance, thankfully the dog owner appears humble. Softening his posture, my hubs explains that he had no choice, but to protect his family. Sadness fills the neighbors eyes. He seems like a good guy. We exchange information and he leaves the driveway.

A few days later he appears again. Quietly approaching me out working in the front field. He reaches out to hand me $200 cash. I thank him. Pointing to the injured goat in the barn, on my way to give him his daily subcutaneous antibiotic injection and clean his wounds. I ask if he’d like to meet the goat, looking timid, he declines. We discuss the cost of his care and he asks that I leave the invoice in his mailbox. I explain that we are willing to split the bill to make amends for his perished pet.

He talks about getting another dog, as he has just gone through a painful divorce, divulging his personal challenges with me. I empathize for a bit, but honestly the mental wounds are still raw, as I help my kids recover from the trauma & the daily care and expense of an injured goat. As he departs, I jokingly holler “If you get another Bull anything I will kick your arse!”

He laughs and all is well among neighbors.

Fast forward many months, we never see any more money from the neighbor. But we are much more grateful for the opportunity to live in peace with him. Years pass quickly, kids grow like weeds. No longer letting goats out of the pasture to forage anymore. The entire front of the property surrounded by predator proof fencing now. Nubs, along with his brother Wilson, eventually move onto our Nanny’s farm, during what became a very crazy busy time in our lives. Working corporate accounts, traveling all the time, kids busy with school & endless activities, the little critters just weren’t getting the attention they deserved.

The Red Shed Barn transformed as housing hogs for our family freezer (see https://willabellafarm.com/2021/03/14/here-piggy-piggy/). My farming experiments expand exponentially as I learn to raise my own pastured pork, butcher chickens, grow better fruit, raise bees etc. I begin to spend countless volunteer hours immersed in food system outreach, pining to offer something more meaningful to society than simply earning myself a living.

Retired from corporate life now as a result of the Pandemic, my codependent brain still always in overdrive. Shifting gears toward teaching youth about healthy ecosystems. I leverage my daughters magic with her father to adopt Nigerian dwarf goats & Julianna pigs as pets to help teach farm camp kiddos about regenerative food production.

My sales pitch includes detailed scientific justification. Preaching that livestock serve multiple purposes to rehabilitate our fallow fields, provide compost for the orchards, helping educate community kids, while earning extra money to offset my expensive farm addiction. He begrudgingly relents…Happy happy farmy fetish day!

New pet farm animals installed, my daughter in love with her fur babies, I begin to dream of breeding my own animal one day. Learning to milk along with my kids. Maybe even making our own cheese & goat milk soap. Every step in this small farming journey carefully calculated around my tired first responder hubby’s mood.

Leaving my sales career, during a never ending global pandemic to focus on keeping our family mentally & physically healthy, I challenge myself to learn something new each farming year. I begin to make a few secret calls to some farmy goat pals, while always including my daughter in on my plans. Covert girl stuff, no time for boring boy nonsense.

Fall arrives, our now middle schooler showing some strange physical symptoms, I take her to my Naturopath and we learn that she is allergic to literally everything farmy, including the dreaded dairy & eggs….NOW there is no question that goat milk is a necessity on our small farm! Supporting my argument even further with the skeptical hubs.

Welcome the arrival of a registered Nigerian Dwarf buck to romance my daughter’s 4H diary goat. She & Cookie girl never making it to the fair for “quaranteen” reasons already explained. Sir Hope Hollow Cocoa The Buck joins our herd, with the excitement of bouncing kids by June!

He is a smelly, raunchy dude ready to party. Upon delivery by my very knowledgeable livestock friend Sherie, of whose farm our Cookie girl and her brother Dusty Bun were bottle raised. The buck enters the first pasture and immediately gets to work separating the wethers from our single doe. Squeeling in delight, foaming from the mouth and flemming like crazy.

Cookie begins to flirt with the little buck pretending to play hard to get. Weeks follow, observing the bizarre goat mating rituals, including the not so rare Bucky behavior of peeing on his own beard. Apparently an attractive cologne for the ladies.

Always pushing myself to take on more than one farmer can handle, I convince the hubs to let me adopt a Great Pyranees puppy to protect our livestock. Experiencing an increase in wildlife predators this past year as well. Having lost our young cat Maple, many many chickens and my beloved mamma Muskovie duck taken in broad daylight, right before my eyes. The coyotes and raccoons literally taking over our farm. Our sweet Kellee girl passing away from old age last spring, leaving our chocolate lab Roxie to manage things on her own.

I am “Groot” joins our farm family. A giant puppy towering over our five year old lab will take at least a year to train properly. This breed is prone to roam, having protected large flocks of sheep covering expansive lands for thousands of years. More hog panels, with T-post welded wire fencing, will be in order to avoid another lost dog adventure. Draining our savings once again. Every action typically has a more expensive reaction in small sustainable farming.

Wired like no other, and in complete contrast to a Labrador Retriever. Those lovable Labs, with tail up, head down, eager to chase a ball or capture small rodents for you. Labs are often tricked by sly coyotes, which I have observed first hand myself. One predator distracts the dog away, while another slips in from the side to steal your sweet momma Muskovie Duck. Running too fast to catch up to, sneaking away under the blackberry bushes, never to be seen again.

It wasn’t the beheaded chickens or even the lost cat. This was the defining moment for me right there, scratched and bloody, standing helpless in the middle of the thick brambles. It is time to take on the challenge of training a Livestock Guardian Dog.

Great Pyranees, equally loving if socialized properly, with head up, tail down, keenly aware of their surroundings, are never to be tricked. These dogs will literally tear a coyote to bits to protect whoever he deems is his flock. Our hope is this majestic guy, wired with GPS, will not break out of fencing, like many other independent thinkers. He will be a working LGD with many important jobs to do, including protecting our farm, Momma Cookie and her babies. While also teaching me some important lessons on slowing down and being more patient…AND so continues the beautiful struggle of small farm animal life.

Thank you for following along on the next phase of our farming journey..We hope to share good news of goat kids coming this June and sharing our experience with our Farm Camp Kiddos! 🌱

*Please visit our social media pages RoseOrchards-WillaBellaFarm on Facebook, @willabellafarm on Instagram, and our blog at http://www.WillaBellaFarm.com for 2022 Farm Science Camp registration to be announced in April.