With the kids eating solid food, milk supplies dropping and space getting tight in the urban pen, it is time for the goatie boys to move on.
“You absolutely promised that neither Biggie nor Smalls would be eaten. So that is not an option,” said my twelve-year-old fixing me with a steely gaze. I had rather been looking forward to a bit of roast goat but know my family well enough to realize that this would not go over well. So the hunt was on to find them good homes.
My first step was to, gulp, get them neutered so they would be adoptable by people not interested in a wild-eyed, urine-soaked beast with a one track mind. Once this somewhat unpleasant task was done I started seriously looking for homes. Much to everyone’s relief in a short amount of time I have found what sounds like good places for them both.
Smalls will be going to an urban home with children allergic to most animals except goats. He will head off at the end of the month, once the toxic plants have been removed and a good shed and strong fence have been built.
This Saturday my daughter and I will bring Biggie out to a woman who responded to my Craigslist posting. She lives on a farm with several other goats, horses and chickens. It sounds like a great place for him and a very nice life. I guess I will just have to satisfy my yen for goat at the Caribbean restaurant up the street instead of the home grown version.
I'd love to hear from you!