Last week I drove to Colorado to pick up our new buck, Harper:
Look at that face! I think he looks like a reindeer!
We prepped the van the day before I left. We installed horse panel behind the two front seats - just as a precaution. Jan happened to have a piece of horse panel (kind of like a really sturdy chunk from a fence) that was the perfect fit. We used bungee cords to fasten it in place. If Harper were to suddenly get loose from his crate, the horse panel would prevent him from attempting to help me steer the van.
We set up a crate, and secured it in place, filling it with straw, and then putting in a nice alfalfa flake for him to snack on. We set up a big jug of water and a bowl, so that I could give him a drink when we stopped for gas.
And then Jan told me, “Don’t listen to a lot of Joni Mitchell. Goats don’t like Joni Mitchell. But they love Chris Smither.” Apparently Jan learned this bringing two goats here from Kansas. When she played Joni they cried. But when she played Chris Smither they settled down and enjoyed the ride. Goats love Chris Smither. Who knew? In the end, it didn’t matter, because the CD player in the van doesn’t work anymore. So, Harper listened to NPR while we were in Colorado, Country while we were in northern New Mexico, and HipHop when we got to Albuquerque. I couldn’t tell that he had any preference at all. Perhaps he has more eclectic taste than the two goats from Kansas.
Before I picked him up, Harper lived on a farm in a place that was neither a suburb of Denver, nor truly rural. It seemed to be a place of micro-farms, with nice paved roads and city services. There were lots of other goats living with him - some shaggy Nubians that were spectacular. Harper was a cheerful, happy goat. You could tell that he loved his home and his life and his humans.
The woman who was giving him to us just grabbed a bit of baling twine, looped it around his neck, and led him easily to the van, where she picked him up and set him in the crate we’d prepared. She gave me his registration papers, and we were on our way.
I had been mentally prepared for him to cry all the way home, but instead he cried for about two minutes, and then settled down. We chatted for about ten more minutes, and then he really didn’t say much the rest of the way home. Although, it seemed he never took his eyes off me.
We got about twenty miles down I-25 and there was a terrible crash. It had snowed the night before, and the pavement was slick and shiny. So, we sat for a long time, not moving. We sat long enough that I worried about getting home before dark. We had planned to get Harper settled into his new pen about the time we fed the other goats. We thought that would make everyone like him, and help him adjust to his new surroundings. Goats love food.
The traffic cleared up, and it was a pretty smooth ride home. Jan drove the van into the vast wilderness area in between the pens (where the chickens roam, searching for grubs most of the day) because that's an area surrounded by fence, with a gate that we can close, so if we lost control of Harper he wouldn’t go running out into the road.
We opened the back of the van, and Harper refused to come out. He just sat down and refused to budge. I think he had had enough new experiences for one day. We put a lead line on him, and I managed to get him on his feet, and then he leaped out of the back of the van, knocking me to the ground. Luckily Jan did not lose her grip on the lead line. I scrambled up and helped her hang onto the line, and we led him to the pen that was going to be his new home. The pen with Leroy and Roger.
The plan from the beginning was that Roger would be Harper’s wether. Leroy is still planning on moving to California - we just have rescheduled his transit there about forty gazillion times.
Leroy and Roger have known each other since they were babies. They were socialized together. They moved to the back pen area together. Leroy is not very nice to Roger, but Roger seems to take it in stride.
Putting Harper into Leroy's pen seemed to bring out the worst in Leroy. He chased Harper around the pen relentlessly, trying to hump him. That first night, we left them all together. Harper didn’t seem to be too distressed by Leroy’s expressions of dominance. But I stewed about it all night.
In the morning, I asked Jan if maybe we could put Leroy in with Sam and Wendell. Sam is a year older than Leroy, and fully grown. He’s a mature buck with a great temperament. Wendell is his wether. She said that if I thought I could catch Leroy, that would be OK.
Leroy was pretty easy to catch, since he was still trying to hump poor Harper. I got him on the slip lead, and took him to Sam and Wendell’s pen where he stood in awe of the bigger, stronger goats. They really calmed him down. It makes me wonder if he just needed some good parenting. You know, we had to take Leroy away from his mother months earlier than the rest of this year's kids. He became sexually mature when he was only eight weeks old, and we couldn’t leave him in the pen with eight little does. That would have been a disaster. So, we moved him (along with Roger) to the Pygmy goat pen. Leroy cried for his mother for three days, and his voice has never been the same. But, now that he’s in with Sam and Wendell, it’s as if, suddenly, he’s getting the mentoring he needed.
I know, it sounds as if I’m anthropomorphizing. But, I don’t know how else to explain how Leroy has seemingly settled into his own skin.
Meanwhile, back in the pen with Harper and Roger, all was now right with the world! Roger seemed completely relieved to be rid of Leroy, and Harper started bonding with Roger right away. On the first day, I saw them sitting on their climbing toy together, leaning against each other.
Every day that passes Harper comes closer to me. He still doesn’t take peanuts out of my hand the way the other goats do. But, a few days ago he sniffed my hand, and then yesterday, he let me scratch the top of his head. So, I’m hoping that soon he’ll let me feed him. I want him to feel as happy and as loved as he felt in his original home.
Welcome to New Mexico, Harper! I hope with all my heart that you’ll have a long and happy life here!
Oh! I wanted to mention, at the end, that if you're stumped for holiday gifts, you still have time to send soap! https://www.serenasoaps.com/