Meet Whipped Cream, the surprise goat. Why surprise? Because she surprised the hell out of us. Last November the only male goat on the farm was Andy. We thought him much, much too small at the time to have mounted any of our girls. So despite letting the girls dry up, we did not make any effort to refresh last year. Nor did we keep them separate because the thought of little Andy being able to mount one of the girls seemed ridiculous.
Not ridiculous said Mother Nature. While my children and I sat on couch watching TV, I heard the distinct sound of a baby goat on the car port. I was sure of the sound, but imagined it had gotten away from the farm a couple miles up the street. After all, none of our goats could possibly be pregnant so we weren’t checking.
Instead of finding a neighboring farms goat and kid, I found Gracey licking off her new born. Unprepared, I whipped off my shirt to swaddle and clean the critter my son would instantly name Whipped Cream. Once dry, we returned her to her mother where other than the occasional rainy night she has been every day.
Thanks to very favorable weather, this little doe spent only the first couple nights in a warming box by her mother’s side. A very good sign as I believe keeping an animal penned up is not good for its overall health.