I could go into all kinds of details about how I acquired dairy goats, how I house them, etc but instead Ill give you a brief window into me. Months ago I decided I wanted to try goats milk. So in Princess of Power fashion, because the idea of having my own goats milk fits with my grand picture perfect version of sustainable, harmonic living I got on Craigslist and quickly located two dairy goats, one just weaned doeling (girl), one bred junior doeling (that means knocked up teenager). I brought them home in my mini van with two chickens and the baby in the carseat. I put them in my chicken run because I didn't have an enclosure ready and figured I had a couple months to work it out. Fast forward to July, we have a functional goat pen and a brand new baby christened Snow White. My research told me I needed to wait two weeks to milk the Mama. Since the two weeks was up a week ago we quite naturally built our milking stand last night. After another quick internet search we remembered Mama Lucy and Snow White would have to be separated in order for us to milk Mama. So the hubs builds an impromptu crate sturdy enough to house generations of goats and at three AM he hustled the little Princess in and shut the door meeting with only moderate concern from Mama. They could be separated 12 hours. We were both a little uncomfortable with that and had no intention of the first night leaving them apart that long. Since we are trying to develop an eventual schedule here and I am not an early riser we figure that on the average night we will put her in the crate at 10 or 11. This morning at ten I did a refresher Google search, pulled up a visual aid and grabbed my supplies; a plastic tea pitcher, two warm wet rags, and the Spray bottle of Betadine I keep in the barn for the horses.
Mama Lucy is still a bit timid because despite my best intentions of being the goat whisperer I never did spend hours in the coop wooing her with treats and my gentle intentions. She isn't aggressive but she also does not like to be caught. So the chase ensues. I send a kid to look for a leash, the hubs goes to find a rope, and finally while they are gone my nine year old daughter and I corner her and lead her to the milking stand. I pick her up and place her on there. They are actually quite a contraption and you secure their head between two boards. So we rig her up and we discover our first problem. The goats had already been fed. She wasn't interested in the feed bucket we forgot to attach but my daughter alluringly dangled in full reach. Not a huge issue, just unfortunate. We proceed on. I had read about what to do if a goat acts bothered by you touching their teats. I expected her to kick. Nope, not Lucy, she decides the best course of action is to lay down. So now the kid is hand feeding her lettuce, the hubs is picking up her entire backside and I am attempting to get the milk. I have never milked anything besides myself in desperate engorged days of breastfeeding. The udder is huge, the teats are small. I refer to my visual aids and realize I have to squeeze the milk into the teat. Lucy, still not fond of my gentle but prodding touch, is still attempting to lay down. I can't manage both teats at the same time but I can do one at a time barely. The first stream that shot out missed my pitcher by a mile. But I was thrilled! I had done it. I was getting milk. I managed in twenty minutes to get about a cup of milk, accidentally spray the hubs twice, and purposely squirt one kid once. I call it a success and we release Lucy who is calmer and happier about the lettuce.
So six months, maybe $600 dollars later, it took three people forty five minutes to procure one cup of fresh goats milk. And I chalk it up as a win! Tomorrow we will get better and eventually this will be so mundane I make the nine year old do it.
And yes, I did try it immediately after I strained it. It was my first sip of goats milk. And it was...well it tasted like warm, weird milk. So begins a whole new adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment