Goats

[s1m0n]

Now that I think about it, the well known Jagger/Richards song Hey MacLeod, get offa my ewe!" likely documents a similar event.

[oleorezinator]

I've tried a recipe using rennet. Didn't seem any diffferent and was much more work than the vinegar.

I'm working up my courage to make something moldy and blue cheesey.

Doc

one place to look: http://biology.clc.uc.edu/Fankhauser/Cheese/Cheese.html

[Jerry Freeman]

Upon being asked about the mischievousness of his goats, my Amish neighbor Levi replied,

"They say everyone should have a goat one time. That way, they'll always be able to enjoy how nice it is NOT to have a goat."

Best wishes,
Jerry

[Denny]

exactly so!

[pipersgrip]

I have some goats. They are great at keeping the kudzu off of the property. They also act like dogs, just lounging around and stuff, and they come to their names. The milking ones are too much work though. You have to milk them twice a day, and in the winter it can be hellish. I had to get rid of one though because he kept on getting loose and trying to get with the neighbor's prized goats. We sold him to some neighbors, and they liked him for a while, then decided to eat him.

[Doc Jones]

Upon being asked about the mischievousness of his goats, my Amish neighbor Levi replied,

"They say everyone should have a goat one time. That way, they'll always be able to enjoy how nice it is NOT to have a goat."

Best wishes,
Jerry

Well mischief is certainly a substantial part of their repertoire. You have to have good facilities or be willing to have them out a lot. Even with good facilities you have to really watch them. They are quite smart and resourceful and enjoy getting out just for the fun of it. Mine have figured out how to open the gate. When they get out, they come running immediately to the glass back door of the house and holler "You left the gate unlatched and the goats got out!" Then I go back to the pen call their names and they come running back in, happy as clams. It's their favorite part of the day.

One of the girls has figured out that the door knob is the key to getting into the milk house. They always come in in the same order to be milked. As I'm milking goat #1, I can hear the squeaking of goat #2's gums on the door knob as she tries to twist it open. I swear one of these days she's going to manage it.

Doc

[jsluder]

When my parents bought the property where I grew up (I was only 6 months old at the time), the farm came with quite a few animals: dogs, cats, cows, horses, chickens, and goats. As the story goes, one of the goats decided that my 3-year-old brother was the perfect butt of his jokes (pun intended), and chased him mercilessly. Which is why I have no memory of the goats.

[The Weekenders]

I am known as the "Goat Whisperer" in the family because I love goats. I was raised on goat's milk when I was little because I was allergic to cows milk for a period anyway. My opinionated nature often leaves me in the periphery in politics and religion, lending further comparison by others, particularly my religious brother, who considers me a goat instead of a sheep regarding my relationship with organized religion.

My nieces have some project pygmy goats that are the cutest effin things you have ever seen. They aren't just miniature, they're kind of pot-bellied and wider. They're very affectionate and bonded to my nieces. I just saw 'em in this last weekend and I almost stole one and brought it home. They are darling creatures.

Watching regular size goats eat blackberry canes, thorns and all is fascinating. I don't know how they do it but it's a great service to man...and of course, by the same token, they'll devastate your garden if you don't keep 'em secure so watch it. And the annoying habit of billies to constantly be buttin' at you is not an attractive feature. And billies stink, too, so female goats are much more manageable.

[Denny]

And billies stink

Weeks, old boy, I do believe that you have outdone yerself in your generosity with that one.

[mutepointe]

When I was growing up, our neighbors had goats for a brief while. They kept them them tethered. One day our mixed breed fox terrier killed one of their goats. The second day, he almost killed another goat but our neighbor shot him broadside full of buckshot. He never went anywhere near the goats or that neighbor again. The buckshot only bothered him in the coldest of weather and he would knock at the door to come inside. If you were a human or a dog, you were fine and he was a gentle creature. If you were anything else and he could catch you, he was going to kill you and eat you. He never caught the neighbor's cat but he dreamed of that day. He sure killed a lot of rabbits and pheasants. There were only a few days in the worst of winters that he would ask to be fed. When he sired a litter, he would stay with them and raise them. He lived for many happy years even after the buckshot.

[Doc Jones]

My opinionated nature often leaves me in the periphery in politics and religion, lending further comparison by others, particularly my religious brother, who considers me a goat instead of a sheep regarding my relationship with organized religion.

I had a great friend in vet school a Nigerian fellow, one of my professors. We were talking about racism in America one day when he recounted a story. Seems some white missionary was explaining to him in Nigeria that God favored the whites over the blacks and that the Sheep and goats reference was evidence of his favor, sheep being white and goats colored.

My friend countered saying. "Well sir, I think you might be interpreting that scripture wrong. I have seen sheep of many colors and goats of many colors. "But" he said, pointing at his afro "I have never seen a white man with wool on his head." I still laugh about that. He was a great guy.

Doc

[talasiga]

Its curious for me that this topic should come up just now.

Right now I am in the big city baby sitting my aged mother.
Only today she was telling me about her grandad.
He died at the ripe old age of 110.
I remember him when I was a child. My great grand dad would distribute lollies
to the children in the village.

Today my mother told me that he actually died while distributing lollies
to the children.
She says he was a strict lacto-vegetarian with the EXCEPTION
that he ate sacrificial goat meat every couple of months.
A free browsing goat from his herd.
He believed pig, fish and fowl to be unclean and didn't even eat eggs.
I guess, given that he was a Hindu (not beef eating) and in a tropical country
(Fiji Islands) where sheep are rare, goats are the only red meat hoofed animals available.

He was a very strong man, small but strong - hailed from Nepal, and was a Gurkha for the British before he migrated to the South Pacific. He was also a retired wrestler.

He used the skin from the goats in things like folk drum heads for the dholak.
That was the first drum I ever played.

My earliest visits to my mother's highland village are marked by memories of
bleating goats and smell of dung of horse and cow.

When I gave up dairy about forty years ago in a successful move to overcome asthma I would sometimes
experiment with goats milk but alas! my experience was similar to Emmline's.

I know this has been a long post but I think that as you browse it you will notice it covers many aspects.
(And unlike some of my posts it has nothing prickly in it).

[dfernandez77]

it has nothing prickly in it.

Goats are a pit prickly.

[dwest]

We drink "Goats do roam" it's tastier than Côtes du Rhônes.

[Redwolf]

When I was young (I almost said "when I was a kid," then thought better of it!), one thing I looked forward to at the fair every year was visiting the goats. In addition to the goats that were there for show, they had a pen of friendly little fellows that the children could mingle among and pet. For a city kid who'd always wanted to live on a farm, that was always one of the highlights of my year.

Redwolf