Cock A Doodle Doo

We bought some Auraucanas in the spring.  Three, to be exact.  While on vacation, 2 of them were taken...by something.  A hawk or fox, I'm assuming.  It was sad, but I was glad we had one left.  The lone Auraucana did not adjust well with the existing hens.  They bullied her because she was smaller and younger.  She could only eat when they weren't around, or else she'd get pecked.  She also started roosting on top of the coop and not inside it.  Then she started showing interest in the spending time with the Cornish Cross gals.  I let her in their coop and it's been bliss ever since.  Two days ago I heard the strangest and unexpected sound...a cock a doo.  It wasn't a full-blown crow.  It sounded like a boy mid-puberty, voice cracking.  I looked up.  It was the Auraucana.  She became a HE. 

We didn't want a rooster.  But, we've decided he's kind of cool.  Right now he guards the Cornish Cross.  And he's super funny about it.  The husband and I stood and watched him with his girls.  All our coops open up into one common pen.  We held a poultry mixer yesterday.  I let the hens out of the pen to free range.  Then I let the Cornish Cross, Mr. Rooster, the other 3 hens we have that are a little younger and the two turkeys, which are male and female, out to mingle.  The turkeys are kept with the 3 younger hens.  Our plan is to move the hens into the Cornish Cross coop once they are processed.  The turkeys will have their own coop.  They coexist quite nicely right now.  The turkeys and hens stayed together.  Once all the Cornish Cross were out and the rooster realized there was a Tom amongst the bunch, he herded all ten of the girls back into the coop.  It was amazing to watch.  The Tom turned backwards toward the rooster, raised his tail feathers and did this thing with his...backside.  I'm not sure of the proper terminology for any of it, so for lack of a better description - it looked like he was making his bum talk to the rooster. 

Now, the rooster is completely skittish of all human contact and didn't try to attack either the husband or me.  He just ran away.  The last thing I want is an aggressive rooster.  For now, he's cool.  And we can't hear him in the house, so he'll stay.  We've also decided to see if the two turkeys will produce offspring, instead of processing them this year for Thanksgiving.  This is going to get interesting!

Processing Chickens

This is not for the faint of heart.  If you get queasy at the sight of blood, please move on...

Today was chicken processing day.  We were totally anxious and nervous.  I was worried about how the kids would handle it.  I was anticipating getting super grossed out.  I was just waiting for the husband and I to get so frustrated that an argument would ensue.  I thought something horrible would go wrong.  I thought maybe the chickens would be infested with crazy worms or some disease and the meat would be green.  I expected to get sprayed with large amounts of blood.  I thought the cats would turn super-carnal and start attacking the innards. 

What I didn't expect was children who watched for a minute and then simply walked away because they took in all they needed and were okay with it.  I didn't expect this amazing community feel to the day because some wonderful friends showed up and helped and kept us company.  I didn't expect to be completely clean, except smelling like chicken.  I didn't expect the cats to go far, far away.  I didn't expect kids to want to help out, kill and eviscerate.  I didn't expect to learn that much about the anatomy of a chicken.  I didn't expect my bare hands to be pulling the innards out of a chicken. 

Here come some pictures:

This is the industrial chicken feather plucker.  I have no idea what the actual name is.  We borrowed it from the husband's cousin. 

Our first chicken...alive and in the cone...it starts to get yucky...so last warning...

It takes a harder hand than expected to cut through the skin.  And the chicken flops around some. 

The husband fashioned the cones with some hard plastic ( I have no idea what it came from ).  The then put a ladder over two saw horses and put the cones ( 4 of them ) in the openings between the rungs. 

To help an easier release of feathers, hold chickens in 140 degree water for about a minute.  We used our burning can, a camping grate and a lobster pot.  We are not big time chicken farmers.

We hooked up the hose to the plucker and watched the chicken spin around and around.  It was weird and splashy.  It got all the feathers off, but split the skin a little. 

.

The chicken was not as big as we thought it might be.  It's all a learning experience...

Our work space:  A desk covered in a tarp with Rubbermaid container covers.  I scrubbed the station down with vinegar because I thought it mattered.  After the first few, there were flies everywhere.  Gross.

Eli was initially "all set" with everything.  After an hour or so, he put on gloves.  By the end of the day he was running around wielding a chicken foot trying to hit an egg-laying chicken in the butt, making jokes about chickens kicking themselves in the butt with their own feet. 

Our 9-year-old helper, eager to carry and process chickens. 

Our 6-year-old helper in the background.  These girls were amazing!

Yes, that is the 6-year-old helping out.  While I was taking a break earlier, she let me know that she understood that I'd need a break because gross work like that wasn't really for girls. 

• We started our adventure at 10 a.m. this morning.  By 11 a.m. we had 3 chickens done.  We spent a lot of time staring at the flapping chickens and marveling at the whole process.  We had a lot of discussions about the process.  A little after 11 a.m. our first helpers arrived.  By noon, the next batch of friends came by.  We were done, everyone gone, everything cleaned up (including ourselves) and put away by 4 p.m. 
• We did not eat chicken tonight. 
• I saved the heads and feet for a broth-making, GAPS diet-following friend.
• I composted the innards, blood and a couple of chickens who were boiled too long and ripped apart in the plucker.
• I thoroughly enjoyed the day - loving that these friends and families could come and witness and take part in our adventure, fostering the feeling and presence of community in our lives and contributing to what we feel is important as a somewhat food-conscious and responsible homeschooling family.

Things we're going to do differently:

Instead of keeping the chickens in this coop for four weeks...

...and in this pen

( By the way...those are Cornish Cross and the brownish are the Araucana's...same age.)

• I'm building a chicken tractor out of hardware cloth, 2 x 4's and plywood, possibly similar to this one.  This was our first go at chicken farming.  We've learned a lot and we're still learning. 
• I'd also like to build a brooder outside instead of housing one in our kitchen...
• We'll be investing in a scalder.  Trying to keep the temperature at 140 degrees was difficult.  Also, having a pot of hot water on the ground kept me on my toes with the kids around. 
• We'll be investing in a plucker, but not a fancy industrial one.  Something a bit simpler... maybe like this one.
• We're also tossing the idea around of how we'll process.  Today we killed, eviscerated and chilled two birds at a time.  Once we got half our flock done, then I took them inside and bagged them and tossed them in the freezer.  Next time around we might kill, parboil and pluck them all...chill them, then eviscerate, bag and freeze.  We're trying to figure out the best system for us to use. 

Having our friends there really made the difference, as it always does.  But the husband and I really needed to focus.  Having friends available for our children to play with kept us free to focus.  Our boys are really young and were enthralled for about an hour.  Chances are if we had done this alone, we would have had to spread the processing out over the entire weekend.  Having friends there to help really helped.  It also lightened the whole mood.  It turned into a real community feel.  I loved it. 

We thought we wouldn't do the Cornish Cross again.  When we first researched we read a lot about health and heart problems.  We read about these birds not being able to fly for risk of rupturing internal things (sorry, I can't recall exactly what they'd rupture).  They're a high risk for heart attacks if you're not careful and don't process on time.  We read that they weren't bred to move a lot.  Also, since I was kind of wiggy (yes, wiggy) about this whole thing, being a new chicken farmer and all, I didn't want to like these birds.  I love, I mean love, my hens. They are my girls.  They follow me to the garden.  When I dig, they know to come.  My baby boy can pick any one of them up without fear of being pecked.  I just couldn't even think about eating a beautifully amazing, egg-laying chicken.  After raising these birds the way we thought we should raise them, I would do it completely different.  I read some blogs regarding raising the Cornish Cross birds differently.  I would raise them like Joel Salatin does with his beautiful grass-loving chicken tractor birds.  I'd care more about them because they can be delightful birds, if raised right.  Raising the Cornish Cross is more cost and time efficient than raising an heirloom breed, I believe.  We've got ten more Cornish Cross chicks in the brooder.  I'm building the tractor this week.  We'll see what prevails.

And no, we did not have chicken tonight...

Dead or Alive...

The other day Eli says, "Mom, guess what's in my pocket!"  I dreaded this day.  I actually dreaded sticking my hand in a pocket of dirty shorts about to be put into the wash more so.  Fortunately, this time it was only 2 crickets.  Live crickets. 
Today it was a dead bug.  A large dead bug. 
Our barn cats have begun to bring home dead things.  Mice and chipmunks.  Can I mention how much I hate picking up headless rodents.  Even more so, I hate that my children find them before I do.  I only hate this because I have this fear that the rodent is carrying some sort of horrific disease and my children will catch it.  I'm pretty sure these rodents have not been on a ship making a summer-long Atlantic voyage with rum-drinking dirty pirates from Europe, but I am still wary.
Our goats arrived again last week in the form of dinner.  Ew.  My kids were super excited to eat "Frankie", but I had to decline.  I almost threw up in mouth a little bit when Silas, face covered in ketchup, approached me and said, "Eat goat. Frankie ketchup!" 
We're preparing mentally for the slaughter of our meat birds.  I know what you're thinking...I just talked about being horrified at the kids eating our pet goats and now I'm talking about killing chickens. 
I am not attached to these birds at all.  They will live with us for between 8 to 12 weeks and then off with their heads! 
A fellow chicken-keeper friend of mine and I were discussing what to do with the layers after they're past their prime.  We talked of a chicken swap, since we couldn't eat our beloved ladies.  As much as I'd love to keep a flock of old hens, I foresee the flock becoming very large over the years...

Moving Chickens to a New Coop

Hmmm...what do we do with the goat house now that we don't have goats?  Turn it into our hen house!  The old coop (roof caved in during the crazy snow-filled winter here) will be revamped to house the broilers - and by the way, those chickens eat and eat and grow and grow...fast.  A new coop will be created to house the turkeys.  The dog house, which once housed goats, then chickens and now cats, will be redone to house all my tools and feed.  The partially boarded area in the front will be a mini garden of sort.  I have no idea what I'll plant there.  I have to wait until the sun comes out so I can gauge how much sunlight hits there. 
The semi-carpenter husband of mine removed two boards from the old goat house, bound them together and added hinges.  Wallah, it's an access door to the eggs.  He built the nesting boxes and framed in a door.  I put hardware cloth over the frame, hinged and handled it.  I added a lock to the access door.  I also added in a roost. 
For the past three days those darned chickens have been sleeping outside the coop on the fence next to the dog house...IN THE RAIN.  Each night either my husband or myself go out there and pick up each hen and place her in the new hen house.  They don't really struggle, since it's night and that's when they hunker down.  If you don't pick them up around the wings and breast, they'll flap their wings and hard.  I got flapped in the face when my grip slipped on one.  Ouch.  At least I didn't have to chase those wily ladies around the yard to catch them. 
We've left the door ajar and they come out in the morning, only to not return the next night.  However, they are getting closer to the coop, but close isn't good enough. This was night three and I put some food and water in there, and locked the door.  That'll teach 'em.
We let our chickens free-range.  And range they do.  Into our disgruntled neighbors yard.  My husband witnessed our neighbor standing over our chickens with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.  Whoops.
I came home today to the neighbor across the street flagging me down as I was coming down the road.  My chickens had crossed the street and were galavanting in his yard.  I apologized profusely.  He is the more laid back neighbor.  He didn't really care.  He was concerned about the girls getting hit by a car.  Also, which he didn't mention, he has 3 dogs.  I can only imagine...

Simplifying Our Farm

Silas and Frankie 2011

Jerry in our kitchen 2010 - and no, we kept the rabbit in the cage behind her...it wasn't a goat cage. What a wee little thing she was!

Brownie and Jerry Winter 2011

The goats were a stressor. After a year and a half, we decided to find another home for the goats. I'm really saddened by this. I'm not going to dwell or air my dirty laundry online...well, more so than usual.

We have decided to focus on the chickens. We are now poultry farmers.

We recently acquired 30 broiler chickens. We have lost 9 in a week and a half. We are not good chicken farmers. This morning we lost our 9th. I had the little girl all wrapped in a warmed towel, giving her sips of cool water. Her eyes were closed and I could see her little tongue as she tipped her head back to drink the water. The husband said to just put her back in the brooder...there was nothing I could do. Within an hour she had died and had been pushed aside by the other chicks.

We also acquired 3 Auracanas. They are still with us.

It's interesting to see the size difference between the broilers (Cornish Cross) and the Auracanas. The broilers have become double the size of the blue egg layers.

We have more chickens coming this week, as well as some turkeys. Oh, yes...turkeys. Gobble, gobble.

I'll be ordering more egg layers, too.

I still can't decide whether to cull some of the layers at the end of the year or just keep them until they die of old age...

Chicken Trance

My husband has been trolling You Tube again. I am not a fan of it, but he loves it. The other day he was researching how to humanely slaughter our chickens. We recently acquired 30 Cornish Cross chickens to raise for meat. We trying our hand at being chicken farmers. Let's just say, we've got a lot to learn!

While researching he came across video after video of chicken farmers and owners who hypnotize their chickens. He thought he'd give it a go. I promise you that the chicks to the left and below are completely okay. They were not hurt at all. I was worried about them. I mean, my husband put them on their backs, softly stroked their chests and they were left in this position. I did some Googling of my own and found this article regarding hypnotizing chickens. There are a zillion more articles and videos that result as well. Once my husband clapped loudly, the little ladies hopped up, shook out their feathers and were fine. The method he tried was the Sternum Stroke Method. True to it's name. Then he tried the Oscillating Finger Method, where you simply oscillate your finger in front of the chickens face, slowly, while gently holding the chicken in a prone position. Lastly, the Chalk Line Method, where you draw a chalk line from the bird's face, while gently holding the chicken down, and moving outward. Some on You Tube say it's a depth perception thing that the chickens use to find bugs and such. Another article-writer says she saw a Discovery Channel show about it and it has something to do with playing dead. It doesn't matter why, I suppose, because I was amazed, but I just couldn't encourage his goofiness, so I kept calling him crazy, while giggling. We do have older chickens that he plans on trying to hypnotize later on today. He tried yesterday but our three-year-old kept yelling, "Daddy, NO!!!" - even after my husbands attempts at reassuring him that the chicken would be fine.

I did have to make sure that my husband, who thought he was the next big thing, didn't let the chicks lie like that for too long. They are only chicks and I was a bit freaked out. They were left like that long enough for a photo op and then they were released from their hold.

You might be thinking how this would be useful to a chicken farmer. Well, we want to clip our chickens' wings so that they do not fly out of the fenced area and over to our neighbor's houses. We love our free-ranging chickens, but our neighbors don't necessarily love the birds in their yards. And in case you're wondering about the wing-clipping, it does not hurt the chicken. It's like clipping fingernails, or so I've been told.

Putting new chicks in with the old...

First, I have to say that when I go to pick up my chicks, I love that they come in a little carrying box. It's the only time I've ever gotten chicken in a box and not eaten it shortly thereafter.

I read on Backyardchickens.com that when mixing new chicks with older chicks that you may have to be careful. A friend of mine introduced me to "the pecking order". Chickens start pecking at one another to assert dominance. "They'll peck to determine who gets to eat first and where they can roost on the perch." If you place chicks or younger chickens with more established chickens, they may get pecked to death. Chickens are a beastly animal. They are drawn to blood. They will also pick on a sickly hen. Crazy birds!

I bought an extra feeder and waterer. I bought a container to keep the chicks in. I had planned on keeping the groups separate for a bit. When I got home I took a look at my birds and thought, "they'll be fine."

I took the advice I found on Backyardchickens.com. One contributor swore by putting the new chicks in with the existing crew while the crew was sleeping. Then, make a lot of noise. Chicks flock together when something is upsetting the roost. Well, my chicks sleep, but they are light sleepers. I could never get the door to the brooder open without them noticing...especially since the heat lamp is next to the door. I had to improvise. The brooder/old dog crate needed to be cleaned. I put the existing chicks in a box. I didn't open the box of new chicks. The brooder was cleaned. I then put the new chicks in first. I told the boys that once I put in the bigger chicks that we needed to make a lot of noise. They got ready. I put the other chicks in and then turned on the Dustbuster.

They boys started stomping around while playing their kazoos. They were hilarious. The chicks all scurried to the back of the brooder and stared at me. I swear they were thinking that I was crazy. Crazy me and my Dustbuster. Well, the didn't even really notice one another.

I poured two cups of food into the feeder. It's almost gone. The waterer is already filled with poop, a worm and pine chips. And I've noticed that the pecking has started. Some of the little Rhode Island Reds are feisty girls! They're two days old and they're fighting for their place under the lamp...pushing out the old girls. Odin is like Snow White with those chicks. He gently picks them up and places them on his shoulder. In the picture below he just got done saying, "Go on chickie. Jump down and go home."

For fun, we tossed in two worms. One got lifted and swung right into the waterer. The birds lost interest. The other, however, was snatched up by one little chick. An Ameraucana. She fought for that worm with an older chick and then jumped right out of the brooder with her fair share! It was a great fight and my boys were loving it.

The Champ

Peeps...

Adding to our brood...we now are three chicks larger. Three cute and fuzzy little yellow chicks. They have actually started to develop feathers. My boys (the husband included) have named the chicks Grampa, Grampa and Elvira.

Some interesting things I have learned while being a chick owner for less than a week:

• Chicks can slip on shiny newspaper (like the coupon inserts).



• Chicks can get inky from newspaper



• Chicks poop. A. Lot.



• Chicks can get a pasted bum...their poop builds up and you have to wipe their bums to clear it off. (We have a crusty-bum chick right now...it's getting to be a concern...)



• Chicks poop in their food.



• Chicks poop in their water.



• Sometimes they peep really loudly.



• Sometimes they are silent.



• Chicks like to huddle together under the warmth of a light bulb.



• They develop a pecking order.



• They imprint the first person they see to be their mother. We got ours two days old...I wonder who they think their mommy is...



• When newly hatched, you have to dip their beaks into the water so they know to drink.



• They will poop on your shoulder.



• They don't like being held upside down by their leg. Or wing.



• In order to socialize them, or rather get them used to people, you need to hold them a couple times a day. You can't just talk to them. They are not great conversationalists, nor do they care about your day.



• Chicks are not afraid of bunnies. And bunnies do not hunt chicks.


• They actually care if another chick is outside their comfort zone...they chirp louder if alone and can see the other chick. It's hilarious.


• The boys don't think it's funny to present the chicks in a bowl (while cleaning their cage) and telling them "it's what's for dinner". That's pork, right?

Disbudding and the truth

We had the goats disbudded two days ago. I fought with it, but ultimately decided that it was the best thing for everyone involved. I offered Eli the chance to come with me. At first he said he would like to come. I described to him what was going to transpire and he was okay with it. He asked to bring some crayons and paper so he could work on his comic book. Sure.
When we got home from a crazy day, I brought up YouTube's search for goat disbudding/dehorning videos. I chose one video and let the kids watch it. Eli looked at me and said, "Are they going to do that to OUR goats?" Yes. "I don't think I want to go, momma." No problem.
I didn't want to hide what we were doing to our children. It is also instinctual for me to want to keep my children safe from the "horrors" of life. However, I think it is important to let Eli, especially, in on what is going on with our animals. We mentioned slaughtering our chickens in a year or so and Eli was a little freaked out. This is a product of him not really understanding where his food comes from. It doesn't come in Styrofoam plastic-wrapped containers naturally, kid. I don't think I really understood where my food came from until middle school. At least that's when I remember being weirded out by it...when a friend's family was serving cow tongue for dinner. That's when I tried squirrel stew, too. Oh, the memories. It was at that same time that I plucked feathers from chickens hanging upside down from a clothes line. I learned a lot from that friend's family life.
As a society we have a tendency to want to shield our children from the realities of life. There are some realities that they should be kept from seeing. Where our food comes from isn't one of them. What happens to to providers of our food in order to better all our lives isn't one of them.
The goats are doing well, by the way. They are spending more time outside - out of their warm indoor pen. They are sneaky little ladies, though...

Things to do with Goat Milk

My mind has been racing...what to do with all the goat's milk I will have. Hmmmm.
I will have fresh, raw goat's milk. Drink it. I've never had it, but I will. Cheese. Oh. My. Goodness. I love goat cheese. I am looking forward to a never ending supply of it. I'm very excited. But, I can only eat so much cheese (or can I???). I've got it...SOAP! Several years ago I tried my hand at soap making. I loved it. My life was a mess and I just couldn't keep up. My life is still a mess...but it's a kid mess, not a crazy single girl mess. I have plans, man, plans. I got rid of all my soap making supplies, but I still can feel the magic in my blood. I'm sure I'll drive the husband insane, but, really, how would that differ from anything that I do now?

Tom, Jerry and Brownie - week 2

I am officially in week 2 of being the proud owner of two goats and a bunny. I love it. Still not sure where this love of animals is coming from, but does it really matter?

Tom has gotten more comfortable around the house. He approaches people and sniffs at their feet. He sprints across the room, comes to a complete stop, does a spin or a flip and then acts like I'm the crazy one. Last night he discovered that the couch has an underneath space. At least he's safe from the kids. Depending on their mood, they have been known to chase the poor bunny...

Having goats is amazing. They are like little...people? No, not quite. But they do have distinct personalities. Jerry, the Saanen, is the leader. She's Type-A. She's always hungry and ready to leap and bound. Yesterday, the weather was beautiful and I was able to let them out of the barn for a while. I put them in the garden (they've begun to wander off if left in the yard). Jerry began running and soaring into the air. It was the cutest thing. Brownie, the Nubian, is much sweeter. She's quieter and tends to follow Jerry around. She loves to nuzzle. She loves attention. She'd sit and let you hold her forever.

I have always thought it was gross when pet owners let their animals lick their faces or kiss them. However, these goats are my babies. They nibble on my hair and I don't mind the least bit. We rub noses and I get kisses. It's hilarious and beautifully sweet.

Eli's not that into the goats. Odin is another story. He'd spend all day out there with them if I let him.

I'm going to have them disbudded, for our safety and theirs. It's been a difficult decision, but one that is best for our situation. As much as I don't want to witness this, I am making myself. For, if they have to go through it, so do I. It doesn't seem fair to remove myself from the pain I will cause them. Jerry is almost ready to be disbudded. I just have to make the call...

Where Has The Time Gone?!

So much has been going on these past couple of weeks! We went from being a family of five to a family of 8 in a week. We got a house bunny. We adopted two goats. Goats! I was fortunate to get the bunny, which my children affectionately named "Tom" (as in Tom and Jerry) from a wonderful family on Craigslist. He's about two months old and the calmest little guy...as you can see. He does freak out a bit when the kids chase him, as I would, too. They're getting better with him, as he is with them. It's been an interesting adjustment. I've never been a pet person, but I am in love with this little guy. I think it's probably because he requires very little from us. The dogs that have been in my life have been very needy, as dogs are. I don't do well with needy. Tom is litter-trained, for the most part. He will try to mark his territory once in awhile, which I promptly squelch by removing the poop and cleaning the area so the scent is gone. And he does not smell. The pee and poop are absorbed by a natural litter called Yesterday's News. We have the ferret litter right now...it was on sale. As you can see, Tom does not have access to the litter, so it doesn't matter what type right now. We give him carrots, rabbit pellets, Timothy Hay and Alfalfa, broccoli and water. Tom just hops around the house and usually relaxes under the Pack-n-Play, if the kids are about. If it's the husband and me, Tom will stretch out on the floor. It's hilarious. We had planned on getting goats for a couple months now. I found a breeder on Craigslist and took the boys to go and visit. In her ad she stated that there were goats that were only a few days old. I figured we'd take a look, pick out which one we wanted and then come back in a month or two. Well, we went home with two goats that were 4 days old. When I asked the woman why she got into breeding goats her reply was, "For money and meat." At the same time Eli said, "Mom, I want that one!" and pointed to a Saanen. Sure, baby, let's get these goats out of here! I couldn't take all twenty, so I opted for two. The woman didn't ask if I knew what I was doing. She let me go with two goats and $70 later I had them in the back of the car. I knew nothing about goats. On the drive home all I could think of was HOW I was going to explain to the husband why I came home with two goats... The pen hasn't even been built. They needed to be bottle-fed. Fortunately, for me and the goats, the husband thought they were too cute. I called a local farmer about hay, seeing as it was 6pm. He was great enough to let me come to his home and sell me a bale. We made a little temporary home for the goats in the basement of the shed. I also had to buy goat nipples. They attach to soda/water bottles. And whole milk. My goodness! So, I've been bottle-feeding these sweet little animals before nursing my own little one. Then I have to feed my older boys. And of course, there's Tom. Oh, and the husband. He's got to eat, too. It's been so hectic, but I love it. I guess I'm a farm girl at heart? This morning the husband built a small pen in the shed. It's perfect and I love it and him. We have a light hooked up to provide additional warmth for the little doelings. They really are the sweetest things. Some things I have learned about goats in the past week: A sneezing goat is a playful goat. They love to curl up with one another. A goat will nibble on your fingers and clothing as a way to identify with you. In allowing a goat to do this you are allowing him or her to be a part of your family, and you a part of theirs. Disbudding a goat may seem cruel, but it's necessary in order to keep a pet goat, and anyone around the goat, safe. As you can see, I had the goats in my kitchen for a couple hours, before realizing that it wasn't going to work out well. Trying to keep the children out of the kids' poop and pee just wasn't going to happen. And I couldn't do my daily things in the kitchen with the goats penned up there. They sure did like it, though. They also seem to like the new area...all snuggled in the hay. It's like it was meant for them. The boys named the goats. The Saanen is Jerry...see above-mentioned note regarding Tom. The Nubian is Brownie. I'm assuming it is because she is brown.