12.21.2009

Getcha Some Goat, Mike


What's Micheal Essien's secret to outside-the-18 bombs and sick volleys? Probably a good work ethic, lots of practice, and a little luck. But I'd like to think that someway somehow, his wanting a goat for Christmas is relevant to the matter.

And, if he's lucky, he might be able to snag one of the 21,000 goats the Ghanaian government is handing out to "increase meat production reducing importation, increase the income of farmers, and provide employment."

12.19.2009

"Welp. That about does her. Wraps her all up."

Monday was the big day. One of those start early and finish late kind of days. But it couldn't have gone much better. Here's a brief recap:


The Secret Ingredients
As usual, I got too excited during the preparation process and forgot to keep taking pictures. Above is just about everything used during the roast. Salt, pepper, and dry rub (orange tint tupperware) went on first. I'll admit, the mustard rub that was supposed to follow next never actually happened. (No big deal, though. It was added later.) The cider vinegar baste was generously drizzled over the meat for the first 2 hours before dumping the remaining liquid into a aluminum foil mummy bag with celery, onions, garlic, bell peppers, brown sugar, and lemon juice.

Slow Roastin'
From about 12 until 4, this was the scene in the backyard: a couple of friends and I standing around, watching these two guys cook with our mouths watering. Other than the initial difficulty of getting a bunch of wet wood to start, the fire burned nice and hot all day long. All that was required of us was to flip after a little over an hour.

Who Dat Goat?

After those first 2 hours of cooking had come and gone, it was time to wrap the bad boys up. I had a little miscalculation when purchasing aluminum foil: only had enough to wrap one goat, so we threw the other on top while Willy made a heroic Kroger run. The timing worked out well. By the time the first goat was ready to eat, the second was on its last 45 minutes of cooking.


Come Getcha Some Goat

The unwrapping of the first goat was a little nerve racking. No one had seen the meat since we covered it in aluminum foil 2.5 hours earlier, so we were clueless as to how everything would turn out. Luckily, we peeled back the foil and a cloud of delicious steam burst out. The meat was already falling off of the rib cage and everything was tender enough to pull apart with fingers alone. We waited a few minutes to let things cool off, then several pairs of hands pulled the meat and divvied it up into 2 large pans, one on each side of the table.

Whatever hamburger buns Willy picked up at the grocery store were gone within minutes, and the rest was piled up onto some paper plates. I could be wrong, but I don't think we dirtied any silverware the entire night. Guys and gals alike showed their inner carnivores, diving in hands first and reducing the goat to nothing but bones. Even the vegetables disappeared. (Some might argue they were the best part.)

As soon as Goat #1 was entirely consumed, Goat #2 was hoisted off the flames and moved to the table as well. Again, it was gone in no time at all. In fact, I heard several times that the second goat was better than the first. Must have been the extra brown sugar Sous Chefs Mark and Gibbs tossed in at the last minute.

Here's a link to a few more pictures of Monday's goings on. Thanks to everyone that showed up and tried a bite. Seeing that many people gathered around a big hunk of slow-roasted meat and having a grand ol' time was the goal from the get-go. What little time I had to stand on my tip toes and survey the crowd enjoying the goat meat was very rewarding. Made all that early morning goat wrangling and poison ivy worth it...

12.12.2009

"Does he still write?"

I was a little too ambitious shooting for a Friday afternoon tipoff for this goat roast. Between exams and limited daylight, we made the executive decision to postpone the event for Monday. The weather man's predicting 65 and sunny, so I'm calling it an upgrade. And it gives me time to clean up the yard a little and prepare these goats.

With the newfound down time, I enlisted the help of two friends, Reid and Mark, in quartering and splitting one goat to be frozen and eaten later. I didn't think about pictures until too late, but here are two starring our guest butchers:



Also, I got another perspective on the art of goat cooking yesterday while shopping at the local Piggly Wiggly. I only intended to get directions to the butt rub aisle - you can laugh - but, as it turns out, the head butcher happens to be an avid goat barbecuer. I filled him in on my situation was immediately bombarded with helpful advice. He loaded me up with all his favorite spices as well as instructions on mixing and coating. Basically, any trade secrets left out by Alton were filled in with this guy's personal favorites. By the end of the conversation, we had covered vegetables, spices, herbs, vinegars, and sauces. I checked out $32 poorer, but 10x more excited and confident.

12.11.2009

"I dig the way you do business, Jackie."


Pre-goat


Post Goat

The backyard's going to get one last makeover before the final roast. I'll post more pictures after I've got it looking extra sharp. For now, clicking the top picture should refresh some memories of the jungle that used to be the yard.

12.10.2009

"And yes, we'll be near the In-&-Out Burger."

Alright, glad that's out of the way. On to the more enjoyable activity of cooking and eating our landscaping crew.

There's a lot of meat - much more than my immediate family could fit in their freezers. So we're dusting off the original Couchon de Lait roaster and launching a spur of the moment goat roast for tomorrow night. Since those goats hit the ice on Saturday, I've been digging for some advice on how to best cook these guys. I hit the jackpot at about 6:30 this evening.

Google came up with the link to Brady, TX's annual Goat BBQ Cook Off. Took me right to the city's governmental webpage. At the bottom is a link to their Facebook page. (Check out the most recent post.) From there, I found a lone telephone number, apparently Brady, TX's phone. Elaine picked up. After hearing my story, she gave me the names and numbers of two of the competition's most well-known local cooks. Cha ching. (Well, I got Alton's number. She couldn't find Charlie's, so she gave me his mom's number. Never could get a hold of her, though.)

Alton, it turns out, is like the Gandalf of goat roasting. A cabrito Olympian. He's competed in each and every cook off in the event's 36 year history. 175 teams of serious goat cooks, and Alton's hoisted the 1st place trophy on several occasions, including last year's "Super Bowl," a separate event only for previous winners. On Cook Off weekend, next to his RV setup is prime real estate. He and his teammates, the "Three B Company" collectively, feed the neighbors all through the night - 5 goats, 60 lb pork ribs, brisket, sausage, 8 lbs of beans. I thought our two pigs was a big deal. "Ha. Laughable, man!" These guys are Hall of Famers.

These people are crazy about roasting goats.
And he was generous with his advice, too! Family recipes, blue ribbon winners, traditional methods, mesquite versus oak firewood. I was schooled on bbq goat for a solid 20 minutes, scribbling away the whole time. After hearing about and approving our exiting pig roaster situation, he recommended the following:
  1. Flatten the goat's bulk by splitting in half or quartering.
  2. Add a dry rub seasoning, salt, pepper, and garlic. Be generous with the salt.
  3. Add a wet mustard rub.
  4. Prepare a baste with following: cider vinegar, mustard, butter, Worchestershire sauce, and plenty of salt.
  5. Roast for an hour over 275 degree heat, adding baste. Then flip.
  6. Roast for another hour, adding baste.
  7. Wrap meat in foil. Before sealing, generously baste.
  8. Let it do its thing for another 2 - 3 hours.
  9. "Done when it pulls apart and you can't stop eating it."
I'll be sure to take pictures before, during, and after this whole fiesta. Once everyone present has eaten their fill, the rest will be bagged up and sent home with friends to recreate the event with a microwave.


12.09.2009

"Donny was a good bowler..."

I woke up Saturday morning to a voicemail from Miss Charlie with the name and number of her neighbor, the expert goat killer that would show me the ropes. Rodney picked up the phone and told me to get on out there to get started. Within a half hour, I had a big cooler from the Dougie House loaded up and I headed out.

Got to the farm at the same time Rodney pulled up in his truck. Big white pickup with an ATV in the bed. He backed it right up to on an open space by the barn. After introductions, he showed me his homemade ATV hitch accessory: a 2-piece pulley system to hoist antelopes up off the ground in Wyoming, where there aren't any trees. Yeah, antelope. Wyoming. But he's hunted, killed, and butchered anything that moves short of humans - farm and game animals alike. Bear, moose, elk, deer, pigs, cows, goats, turkey. You name it, he's killed and eaten it. So if I was ever going to learn from somebody, it would be this guy, the tip top of the food chain.

And learn something, I did. Rodney was very patient and instructive, not to mention a big fan of experiential learning. I drove off the property having done a lot more than I had anticipated upon first arriving. Definitely an afternoon I won't soon forget. But what an experience. And a valuable skill to be familiar with.

I've thought a lot about which details to share publicly and which to withhold. There are parts of the story that probably wouldn't be appropriate in most circles, so I'll let you ask me about them in person.

I will say, however, that the goats died a very quick, clean death. Instantaneous. Rodney's preferred method is shooting the goats with a .22 rifle (in the head), then hanging and skinning much like you would a deer. If you're interested - and it sounds like several people are - here are a couple of pictures from the afternoon. Be aware there are, in fact, dead goats in the pictures. Any particularly bloody or disturbing pictures were not included, so don't be too hesitant to click. Looks just like your grocery store meat would. The captions are somewhat instructional, you know, just in case 2012 rolls around and you've gotta feed some mouths.

In the end, all three carcasses fit inside one jumbo cooler, where they've been since. Rodney recommended keeping the meat on ice and water for a few days, changing it every so often to flush the blood out of the meat. Consider it an expedited, home scale equivalent of the 2-week hanging, or "aging," of your everyday cut of beef. Now, after 4 or 5 days, nearly all the blood has been drawn out, and we've got some seriously tasty looking meat on our hands....


12.06.2009

Getcha Some Goat Pics

Stonewall: half goat, half Minotaur.

Abby: Head of Security.

Cutest of all time.

I got plenty of pictures of the farm this weekend. There are 14 baby goats out there right now. Most entertaining 2 pounds of fur I've ever encountered. Click here, Grooveshark your favorite Lion King song, and put the "slideshow" function to work. Just try to be in a bad mood.



12.03.2009

"Dude, tomorrow's already the tenth..."


Here's the sparknotes recap of the past few weeks:
  • Guerrilla Goat Herding: That was the last time you heard from me. On a Tuesday. No real developments since. Word's spreading onto the 6th floor about some "goat kid" two floors below. Well, probably more like "goat kid with poison ivy."
  • Poison Ivy: Apparently, the goats got into some poison ivy while on the 5 Acre Woods property. After picking them up, carrying them, etc., I must have got the oils all over my hands. Then I got in the Jeep, played with my weak excuse for facial hair, and proceeded to get the evil ivy oil all over my mug. Went to bed Wednesday an average homo sapiens; woke up on Thursday morning Quasimodo. It was bad. Eyes swollen shut. Neck, ears, cheeks, lips. Everything irritated and huge. Stumbled to the health center and freaked out the nurses. They gave me shots and pills, creams and sprays, shook a medicine bag around my head and chanted counter curses. It still sucked for a solid 72 hours. But I'm healed now. And you better believe I won't ever make that mistake again. Now you know too.
  • Thanksgiving Break: That Friday, Harvey Dent face and all, I took the goats out to Miss Charlie's farm to hang out with the old herd so we could all enjoy our turkeys back home. They've been out at the farm since. All according to plan.

Not to toot my own horn, but when dropping off the goats, my three were noticeably fatter than any other goats on the farm. Like, Biggest Loser fatter. I was proud.


11.24.2009

"What are you, a park ranger now?"

Guerrilla Goat Herding
The idea came up during a "Privet Pull" at a local urban forest, 5 Acre Woods. It was an extra credit opportunity, so I expected to get in, get out, and earn a couple gimme points on my next Planning test. When I mentioned to the man in charge and hometown friend, Coach Counter, that his overgrown lot could use the help of my goats, he jumped all over the idea. 48 hours later, I was getting permission to miss Tuesday's classes so I could herd my goats.
Everything went relatively smoothly. The goats had two temporary paddocks, with the first pictured above. I spent from 9:30 to 1:30 with the goats at the first paddock, watching them obliterate every privet plant within reach. The second paddock was monitored by Coach Counter and several of his classmates, also landscape architecture majors, while I ran back to campus to take a Plant ID quiz. The goats left the property right at 5:00 PM. After roughly 7.5 hours of non stop eating, our three guys were noticeably stuffed.

Picture worthy?

The transportation went pretty well. With two pairs of hands, it'd be a cinch. Another Dougie Shoutout to Hans for loaning us Millie's jumbo dog crate. Once I got all three inside, they rode comfortably both to and from the site. (I spotted one guy in a pickup truck leaning over his dash with a camera taking a picture of the above scene. I wonder if he was an Achiever...)

There were a few complication with the fencing. This black plastic stuff just won't cut it. It's too brittle and the goats can lean on it way too easily. Some taller, orange construction fencing might do the trick, especially in terms of mobility. And then electrical fencing is always an option if you really wanted to be temporary. If you had the time and resources, the best bet would be to string up hog wire around the entire area and let the goats do their thing. It wouldn't take long for a small herd of goats to make an obvious dent in a privet infested lot like 5 Acre Woods.

Overall, Coach Counter and his classmates seemed to enjoy the goats' help. There were plenty of pictures taken and even a video or two, so I'll be sure to share when I get a hold of them. Unfortunately, keeping goats within Athens city limits isn't at all legal, so we can't go too big with using goats on the property, but it's definitely something to consider on down the road.

11.19.2009

"Another caucasion, Gary."

Acorns v. Noble Goat

We had our first taste test yesterday. "Slam" Duncan and Dora donated enough Water Oak acorns to feed the goats for a week. They hauled an entire wine box full of the morsels off their roof, just to share with our goats. That's a lot of acorns to be carrying up and down a ladder, especially for an older couple like our neighbors. Big time Dougie Shoutout.

I didn't think the goats would find something they like more than their daily pan full of Noble Goat, but it wasn't even close. Like watching a family of obese rednecks devour a Shoney's buffet line. They were chowing down.

The big oak is located almost on the property line between us and Dunc' and Dora's. I've noticed the goats hanging out under it's canopy munching on fallen acorns before. Unfortunately, that's the only mast producing tree on the property. Tulip poplars, sweet gums, black gums, mulberries, and maples are the usuals in the backyard. They'll eat the freshly fallen leaves, but I'm sure the goats would rather have a few more oaks back there, constantly dropping little, delicious nuggets all around them.

I wonder how they feel about pecans...

11.17.2009

"New sh*t has come to light, man!"

It's finally time to cross that bridge I've been putting off for so long. Thanksgiving Break starts this weekend and lasts through the next. That's a lot of time to leave these three dudes unattended and just hope for the best. Yeah Right. That was one (extreme) option. Another (extreme) option was to rush the slaughtering/processing time to late this week. Wasn't comfortable with that either.

So we decided to take the goats back out to Miss Charlie's farm either Wednesday or Thursday to chill with her herd. (Dougie Shoutout to freshman year intramural soccer phenom, James for the suggestion.) That way I won't have to worry about Digby getting into Dora's camellias. And, since the goats will already be out there, Miss Charlie offered her neighbor's help in the entire killing/skinning/butchering process. I'd like to be involved and learn as much as possible from this guy. Wouldn't be opposed to the idea of getting my hands in there either. In fact, I think I should. And you'd be surprised how many people have voiced their desire to be involved in this phase of the goat experiment. Unfortunately for my bloodthirsty friends, I haven't granted anyone the wish of tagging along. Yet, at least. Is that something you can invite your friends to? If they're genuinely interested in learning?

On that note, the topic of eating goat meat came up in our conversation around Miss Charlie's wood stove. That whole ordeal will be eye opening. From what I understand, after Neighbor Randall and I have done the less appealing components of a "goat harvest," we'll be left with an entire skinless carcass, which she recommended we cut in halves or quarters, boil in a large pot, barbecue, then freeze. She confirmed that all of this could be done in our backyard with our Cochon de Lait setup, and even offered to lend us a massive cauldron to boil all our goat at once. I foresee an entire day devoted to cooking goat meat and distributing it amongst friends. Plenty of time to do research on different ways to prepare goat.

On top of loaning us her pots and babysitting the goats, Miss Charlie sent me home with a big zip-lock full of frozen goat meat. Boiled, then barbecued plain, then frozen. I just nuked some and tried it for the first time. It's tasty even by itself. A1 sauce is all I've got to dress it up with in the fridge, but I'm already thinking of all the cool ways this could be cooked.



"They're called Autobahn. They released an album in the late 80's."

Was just blinded by my camera's untapped technology. It certainly doesn't look capable, but the Google Picasa picture reader managed to pull up an accidental video from the depths of my camera's memory. Opens up a lot of doors. With so much testosterone back there (their gargantuan testicles are still the #1 source of conversation), we might get lucky enough to record something as YouTube-able as this:


Or this, if Scott would quit watching Bear Grylls act and do something worthwhile, like, for instance, train goats to climb ladders, walk tightropes, and stand on a cup, all with a monkey conductor:


11.15.2009

UGA Goat Facts

Here's a fact sheet on meat goats in the state of Georgia. From the UGA College of Agricultural & Environmental Sciences.

"In a recent survey, Texas retailers said they could sell 4.8 million goat carcasses a year if they could be supplied."

That's a lotta cabrito. If this landscape architecture thing doesn't work out, looks like Plan B is invest in a sturdy staff, get myeself a good dog, buy a couple of goats, and start my career as a Lone Star State goat herder.


11.12.2009

"Is there a Ralph's around here?"


With the leftovers of our liberated hog wire roll, we finally replaced that eyesore sweetgum situation. Looks much, much cleaner, and I can sleep easier not having to worry about extra brave goats. Gracias, Scott, for the helping hand. (Another perk of the bonfire pit is the house's newfound motivation to clean up fallen limbs for pyromania purposes.)


On the other side of the yard, our original solution is still kicking ass. I think it's got more to do with goat's hating water than us being crafty. But if you've spent as much time as we have wrangling up adventurous goats, you'd get excited about small victories like this too...

Weathering The Storm



We got yet another serious drenching all day Tuesday. Steve's Creek was noticeably swollen, and the yard itself was pooling up all over. Thankfully, the goat shelter and hay remained high and dry, so the herd didn't seem to mind too much. They were quiet, which, from what I understand, means you've got happy goats on your hands.

After the rain eased up and the wind picked up, the goats were pumped to have all the fresh leaves falling all around them. And it left the backyard looking as attractive as I've seen it.

Dougie Shoutout to Papa Condon for hooking us up with some heavy duty nails to secure our new benches. Also, there's a nice layer of mulch around the benches somewhere under all those leaves. Good work, Dusty.

11.10.2009

"Sure, you'll see some tank battles."

Breakfast, returning from online humiliation, puts the hurt on a Digby/John Abraham tag team.

I'm more than a little concerned with Digby's court awareness. Several times Breakfast had him backed up to within inches of a disastrous fall into Steve's Creek. Now that would be YouTube material.

11.05.2009

"I've seen a lot of spinals in my day."

The family came in town last weekend to check up on me and the goats. After their initial fascination wore off, Mom whipped out the new camcorder in hopes of bringing back some urban goat footage back to the grandparents and immediate family. (Dougie Shoutout to Uncle Homer for the names "Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner.") To spice things up, my brother Henry and I encouraged some climbing by placing privet and goat feed up off the ground. Here's the result:




"Sometimes they fall. That'd be ideal." We couldn't have scripted it any better. He even waited for me to finish my story. Fortunately, he hopped right back up and went after the Noble Goat like nothing happened - so I don't feel guilty posting it for the world to see.



11.04.2009

"Like an Irish monk?"



Here's the new bridge gate. Yeah, I realize it's not going to featured on any home improvement shows, but it gets the job done. And it was free - liberated hogwire fastened to lumber from a frat dumpster with some nails.
The already leaning rail makes the entire bridge look awkward (and unsafe), but no goats have been dropping land mines on it since the gate's inclusion. So we're saying mission accomplished.

"It's just part of your whole sick Cynthia thing."

Remember that post daring any ambitious goats to make the 4 foot jump into Dunc' and Dora's yard? Well, John Abraham strutted up there and leaped like it wasn't nothin' but a peanut. He stuck the landing and promptly starting munching on Dora's camellias.


I blocked off that potential escape route with a conveniently shaped limb. (Since this picture was taken, the barrier has been beefed up with the salvaged dumpster lumber.) When he made a second attempt and was stumped by the new impasse, he did a 180 back to the notch visible in the picture. Then he took off even farther up the downed tree, getting as much as 10 feet off the ground. He didn't like his odds as much from there and turned back before I could snap a picture from the other side.

Again, I suppose I could take preventive measures and block off that route as well. But, like before, I'm interested to see just how capable these goats are of escaping. A nine to ten foot jump is quite an accomplishment. Maybe something I could brag about as a goat owner...

"Dude, I finally got the venue I wanted."

The Dougie Deck is once again hospitable. Now, the steps and side of the deck pictured are fenced off with our newly acquired hog wire.

It's becoming more and more obvious that the number one challenge with goats is keeping them where you want them. Definitely underestimated their abilities. I'd say about 75% of my time spent with the goats is patching up a fence or solving some other boundary issue. If you have the option, do it right the first time and save yourself the trouble down the road.

11.03.2009

"This isn't 'Nam. There are rules."

Here's the first paragraph of the email I received earlier today from University Housing:

"Juneau Construction plans to conduct a pre-dawn, concrete slab pour tomorrow morning. The concrete pour is scheduled to begin at 3:00am on Wednesday, November 4, 2009. Set-up will occur before 3:00am. Set-up will likely include mobilization of the pump truck, minor crane operation, powering-up of light towers, and mobilization of manpower."

All right outside my window. Is President Mike reading my blog? Am I being punished?

"Mobilization of manpower?" Are we getting ready for war? And is there really such a thing as "minor crane operation?" If you're operating a freaking crane, you're operating a freaking crane. It's going to keep me up. That's just asking for me to liberate construction materials for my goats. Maybe a few leftover palettes. Or maybe even some new roof shingles for the goat house...


11.01.2009

Still Accepting Donations

"Slam" Duncan and Dora's Most Recent Contributions to the Cause

Big Dougie Shoutout to neighbors Dunc' and Dora for their generous donations of 3 antiquated and disfigured landscaping tools:
  • Rusty and undoubtedly unsafe, those loppers are still every privet bush's (and my appendages') worst nightmare.
  • The newest gift, our bent pitchfork, has definitely seen better days. But I'd put money on my Grandpa being able to fix it. So it may be useful yet.
  • Those old school wire cutters are money. We had some dinky ones from one of the guys' tool kits. Probably a graduation gift. All they did was wear my arms out. These guys, on the other hand, slide through hog wire like butter, making my life so much easier.

Dora's even hooking up the goats with the occasional treat of a Ginger Lily plant from her yard. She says they slurp down the long, lanceolate leaves all at once. Pretty impressive.

"Eyeball to Eyeball"

John Abraham laying the wood to Digby

While working on a new fencing solution to keep the goats off the deck, I heard Digby and Johnny A going at it on the bridge. I snapped a few action shots but only this one comes close to giving justice to the intensity and sheer bloodlust. There were some serious head butts and even a few flying kicks out of Johnny's corner. Almost knocked Digby into the creek. He's easily the baddest mutha on the block.

Goat Grub

Goat Food Fit for Nobility

Just purchased this bag of goat feed from Tractor Supply. If you're like me and way too interested in goat nutrition and weight gain, you can check out more details here. It comes in a pellet form, and the goats seem to think it's delicious.

It's a 5o pound bag, and I'm only giving each goat 2.5 solo cups full per day. So we'll see how long this goat grub lasts. Once they go through the whole thing, I would think it'd be close to slaughtering time. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there...

10.30.2009

Dougie Pit

Dougie Pit

A backyard bonfire pit had been the topic of conversation for the past few weeks. Then, one afternoon, Scott and Willy decided to lace up the work boots and scavenge the backyard for suitable rocks, concrete chunks, and splash pads. Once assembled and dropped into place, they made a pretty sweet little fire ring. And, before you know it, there were a dozen friends in the backyard lounging around a nice, warm fire.

Not only did the goats effectively clear out an area in which to build and enjoy a fire pit, but they also gladly provide the next fire's fuel every time I toss them a fresh privet branch. So, along with clearing out the backyard, we can applaud these goats on encouraging the Dougie House residents to get out and enjoy the backyard. (This is especially timely, considering Taylor's recent diagnosis of Nature Deficit Disorder. More to come on his path to recovery.)

Since that night, quite a few defoliated privet branches and fallen limbs have been relocated to the pit, which leads me to believe there'll be another bonfire night in the very near future. Rolling a few more log sections around the fire might be necessary to accommodate the masses...

"Wouldn't hold out much hope for the tape deck though."



It's raining again.
But the goats seem content just chilling under their 'Free Palestine' roof. The hay has remained dry despite its doubling as a bedding material for Tevon (or whatever we're calling him this week). Also, the palette is keeping plenty of floorspace dry. That's the good news.
The bad news is that this rain's getting in between me and my shepherding duties:

10.27.2009

"You didn't think I was rollin outta here naked, did ya!?""

If you haven't already checked AllThingsGoat.com today, you need to start adjusting your internet browsing destinations. Give it a look see. Our goats should still be on the front page. First blog shoutout. Sweet.

It's raining now, and has been all day. Scott reports the goats have been under their brand spankin' new shelter, munching on the bale of bermuda grass hay that Miss Charlie hooked us up with. It had been sitting in the back of my vehicle this whole time, waiting for the appropriate time and venue to vacate the Jeep's trunk. Not a moment too soon.

In other news, last night's reconnaissance bike ride led to the discovery of 3 rusty rolls of hog wire among discarded washers, dryers, and dishwashers behind a graduate housing building. One in particular looks to be just the right amount to replace our makeshift goat barrier. I'm not opposed to liberating a few linear feet of neglected fencing from leftover University construction. Again, it's all justifiable as personal revenge for President Adams' unforgivable sin. (And the Dougie Deck really needs its table back.)

10.21.2009

"Over by the In-and-Out Burger."

Finally got a chance to see Homegrown, a short film following the Dervaes family's attempt to live a low impact, self-sufficient, Little House On the Prairie lifestyle - on a 1/5 acre lot smack dab in the middle of L.A. Sounds like prime blog material, right?

As the product of a similar urban situation, I was encouraged by Papa Dervaes' success. Something crazy like 6,000+ pounds of produce! And only after 3 years. Think about that. In 36 months, his house went from pain-in-the-ass, weekly mowed, relatively useless American front yard, to a working, edible landscape.

Granted, the Dervaes family devotes all their energy to their household. Odds are, the average Jeff Goldblum isn't going to cut short his miraculous big screen career to start tending his bok choy beds. But what if everybody eased up on their definition of the "perfect yard" a smidge to the point we wouldn't dub Mr. Dervaes a "nut?" Or at least not make a movie about his yard.

What's so sacred about a giant, trimmed green rectangle anyway? Usable space? Try again. When was the last time you saw your parents host a flag football tournament with their friends in the back yard? Throw some native grasses out there and let the thing go, Pops. Maybe go crazy with a few rows of corn and wine grapes. Or goats.

There are countless superior alternatives out there, both economically and ecologically. Xeriscapes, permaculture, formal gardens, forest settings, wildflower drifts, native prairie grasses. Plenty of job opportunities for me and my classmates should the average American quit listening to Scott's commercials...



"Who's this gentleman, Dude?"

Goat's Eye View of Wall of Deck Furniture

There was some furniture rearranging last week on the Dougie Deck. Realizing no one would be home for the weekend spurred some creative solutions to keeping the goats on their best behavior during our absence. Digby has been getting bolder and bolder in his escape attempts, regularly climbing up the steps and hurdling over the small fence onto the deck. Once on the deck, the goats would still be confined to the back yard by the deck's opposite fence - but better safe than sorry. Our makeshift barrier included 5 or 6 chairs, a table, some pots, a ladder, a tool shelf, and a grill. Not pretty, but it worked. And it only cost zero dollars.
In addition to securing the perimeter, I also cut some more overhanging privet limbs. About half were placed under either side of the shelter to encourage its use. The other half disappeared within minutes of hitting the ground.
I cut another huge pile of privet last night that should keep the goats occupied all day. After last night's pruning, almost all of the privet hanging over the fence line has been removed and consumed by the goats.
2 Birds: feeding the goats and visually widening the yard.
1 Stone: Dunc' and Dora's backup (and antiquated) loppers.

10.15.2009

Suggested Reading

Here's a cool article on Chattanooga's attempt to control kudzu using goats. It's interesting to think that goats could be the first step in the invasive control and restorative processes. Just during the brief amount of time I've observed them, it's clear that goats can, in fact, be extremely helpful in clearing out exotic invasives. (Quick before/after example.)

  • For one, every piece of foliage is stripped from the stems and branches of the evil English ivy. Take, for example, the downed mulberry on the other side of the creek. It's stump and lower trunk were completely carpeted with English ivy. Once defoliated, the ivy pulled right off the tree. Now, the tree is entirely visible again. Much more visually appealing.
  • It didn't take long to realize that privet was like goat candy. Of all the plants in the back yard, native or introduced, privet disappeared first. Now, all that's left are their individual leafless stalks. I haven't tried, but it looks like they'll be much easier to grab a hold of and pop out of the ground with the help of a spade.
  • The liriope is also starting to disappear, or at least become visibly sheared off. They've still got plenty to nibble on though. My neighbor pointed out that goats won't get down to the roots on these plants, so their permanent eradication will take some extra grunt work.


10.14.2009

"I'm a brother shamus!"

As of 10:30 PM the goats were not using their shelter tonight. Instead, they're huddled up against the brick house, directly under Taylor's window. There's enough overhang from the roof above to keep the first 3 or 4 feet protected from rain. My guess is that our new Goat Mariot has a leak, or several leaks.

Closer inspection revealed that their TempurPedic cargo palette under the shelter was indeed damp. The roof must be saturated with water and dripping all over the interior. I assume a simple tarp would solve the problem. Besides a chance of rain tomorrow evening, the weather looks dry for the next week or so. Should be enough time to dry everything out again.

Last night, after Dusty's hairdo finally evolved into something similar to a young, '02 World Cup Landon Donovan. (With Kev's help, as is the case when friends shave friends' heads, the process took a detour through the Kenny Powers set on the way to the finished product.)

How is Dusty's scalp relevant to urban goat ownership? Well, you can strike "human hair" off your list of things you thought goats would eat. With this much goat-human interaction, we're bound to come across plenty more outlandish offerings. For example, according to Willy and Taylor, goats are simply not interested in over ripened bananas. Dora, on the other hand, would be quick to tell you that my goats enjoy the taste of her prized gardenias and ginger lilies.


10.13.2009

Goat Shelter/Dougie Guest House

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Here it is. We cut the (Pabst Blue) ribbon tonight in celebration of the goat shelter's completion. A palatial, 3-compartment, bachelor goat pad.

The branches in the outer "rooms" are freshly cut privet from over the fence. I'm hoping they, as well as the case full of Bermuda hay, are the only house warming gifts the goats need to get the hint.

Yeah, there's probably a better method of dispensing hay to goats. But I'd like to think my goats would be PBR drinkers if, you know, goats drank beer. Plus, the case was free. And at hand when the need for a feeding trough hit me.

I'm sure improvements will be made to the goat inn as the weeks go by. Current ideas include stacking leftover firewood along one or more sides to shield the interior from cool breezes. And, if there's room, it might be possible to squeeze one more palette under there. No rush though.

Rain's in the forecast for tomorrow, so we'll see how this thing stands up to the weather. And if the goats prefer it to under the deck. They better.

There's plenty more to write about, but Scott just called and said Dusty's head is being shaved. I'm sure you'll understand.

10.12.2009

Mark Powers' Goat Photography

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View the start of Mark's career as a goat photographer

These steps seem to be the goats newest favorite hangout. If they're not eating, odds are they're stacked up on these steps taking a power nap.

"You gotta date next Wednesday instead!"


Posted by PicasaFuture Site of LEED Certified Platinum Goat La Quinta

I ran out of daylight/motivation this evening after choosing this particular spot for the new goat shelter's future site. But before throwing in the towel, I rolled four 30" logs into place and relocated the old shelter's cinder blocks. I'll recruit Scott to help out with some grunt work, so it should be hospitable by tomorrow. And look something like this.

To the immediate right and left of the pictures borders are two huge magnolias. It's obvious that their combined canopies keep the ground relatively dry. And those leaves should last through winter. There'll be a palette under there as well to keep the sleeping quarters above ground.

Also, because we here at the Dougie House are forward thinking folk, I'm interested in locating and designing the temporary shelter with the idea in mind to turn it into a compost pile on down the road. The goats are certainly doing their part in spreading some fresh fertilizer all over the yard, but if we ever wanted to use the free Miracle Grow Goat Manure for next year's peppers and tomatoes, we'd be out of luck. So, if there's a way to concentrate the goat turds in an area, I figured it'd make things easier. Wouldn't take a second to remove the roof and roll a few more logs around to make the framework of an easy compost pile.



10.09.2009

Some Serious Goat Merchandise

I had no idea there was such a market for goat apparel and gifts. My favorite was the "My kid is cuter than your kid" bumper sticker. Not because it's particularly clever, but because from a distance it would just look like you're calling every other driver's kid ugly. Which is funny. Otherwise, these goat people have gone off the deep end with shirts like this. Or this.

10.08.2009

"That's just the stress talkin', man."

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Digby started climbing this tree right up against the neighbor's property. He scuttled up there like he had an escape route in mind, but ended up only nibbling on a few magnolia leaves and Dora's camellia.

The end of that log ends directly over the fence, about 5 feet off the ground. So, the jump is doable, but Digby would have to really be invested in something on the other side to attempt that sort of leap.

If we had to, we could saw off about 2 feet or so of log to further discourage any daredevil goats. But, I'm interested in seeing if he'll make the jump. (And not about to spend a half hour sawing a log.) So the log stays.

"I will not abide another toe."

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Our less than perfect history with fences led me and Scott to go ahead and tackle the creek channel issue as well. Previously, we had 5 or 6 pieces of the salvaged frat lumber crossing the channel at several angles, making a pretty half ass goat barrier. And an eye sore.

This new solution drops a strip of black fencing down from the existing wire fencing. Stakes and zip ties were used to keep the fence taught from top to bottom.

Where high water and debris come rushing down, we made two vertical cuts so that a section can swing downstream and allow the junk to pass under. To keep it weighed down in place and deter goats from testing its strength, we fastened a heavy stick to the bottom. It looks nice, but that doesn't mean squat to a goat. We'll see how long until we have to go chasing again...

"Saturday, Donny, is the Jewish day of rest."

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I've been admittedly misleading in my reporting of goat escapes. Here's the truth, and nothing but the truth:

For a solid 5 days there, I sighed every time I saw Dusty, Taylor, Willy, or Scott's name light up my cell phone. It's safe to say we've all had our chances to get over the learning curve on how to catch and transport escaped small livestock by hand. Poor Taylor had a daily cardio session trying to keep them out of "Slam" Duncan and Dora's yard. With midterms all week and an empty wallet, I had to make do for as long as possible with what was available. There, that was the disclaimer. Don't judge.

First the good news. The herd has successfully removed all privet from the back yard. Only their bare, leafless stalks remain. Like the Elephant Graveyard of invasive exotics. With my goats replacing the three spooky hyenas. I'll get pictures of skeletal plants uploaded soon.

For whatever reason, all three have honed in on the privet plants throughout the backyard. They're so efficient, in fact, that the only remaining privet is overhanging the fence from over the fence. Even that is sheared off at head level.

Unfortunately, one privet branch was located directly above the section of fence made of the material salvaged from beneath the deck. Whether he knew what he was doing or not, Digby's weight was enough to tear/bend the fencing material. Along with the fact that the fencing was old and brittle, the real problem lies in the diameter of the individual fence openings. The holes were small enough to allow a goat's hoof to place pressure on it. The hog wire fencing around the rest of the yard had holes big enough to render a goat's hoof useless. No traction, no leverage, no jumping, no escaping. Pretty simple.

As I noted earlier, the goats had no idea they were doing something wrong by walking through a hole in some porous black object. Their idea of making a break for it seems to consist of wandering about 15 feet, head to the ground the entire time, nibbling on whatever their mouth touches.

I admit it wasn't pretty, but our "solution" did the job relatively well. The picture at the top of this post depicts our efforts to discourage goats from reaching for the problematic privet. It's basic structure consisted of two rows of black fencing zip tied to stakes. All covered in whatever was at hand (wood palette, old picket fence section, branches, etc.). After two missed lectures spent goat wrangling, I finally called the Goat NooB Hotline.

Miss Charlie was happy to hear an update on the goats, and, when presented with our problem, offered to donate a roll of hog wire to the cause. About 3o linear feet of it - the exact amount needed to patch up both previous fencing solutions. Muchos gracias, Farmer Chuck. It's becoming quite obvious these goat herders are a generous people.

Now, with Scott's help, the back fence is looking nice and goat proof. So far, we don't have any post repair escapes. And my phone's been much quieter. No news is good news.

Lesson learned. Have a sturdy fence at least 36" high without holes small enough to allow goats to lean on it. Unless their hooves slide through, they'll eventually get enough leverage to hurdle anything you can put in front of them. Now you know.

"Another caucasion, Gary."

My appetite's been taken care of for the time being, so I don't anticipate traveling farther than the fridge for the remainder of the night. The dinning hall came through big time tonight with a surprise (to me) special 5-star dinner event. Hell yeah.

AND my roommate told me he broke up with his girlfriend the other day. Said he no longer wanted the brownies she'd made him on the counter. Sorry for your loss, dude. But don't count on those brownies making it through the night.

So, I plan on catching up on goat news in the company of the chocolate covered fruit I smuggled out in some Tupperware. It's not stealing if you're eating it yourself, right? Right.

In all seriousness, the dining hall put together a performance tonight. Delicious food all over the place. As a cyber high-five, I'll shamelessly link to their webpage as much as possible. Maybe even write a letter.

(Just to bring everybody back down to earth, some meat head plopped down across the table from me with his gallon jug of Creatine-y water, 3 sweet potatoes, and a bowl of chili. In the midst of a once-a-semester feast! Justified his main course with "sweet potatoes are awesome sources of carbs if you're trying to gain weight." Go 'dawgs.)



10.04.2009

"3000 years of beautiful tradition."

Because this blog's theme is centered around raising goats, I'll limit my report of the 2nd annual Cochon de Lait to a photo album and captions. But you could easily write a lengthy essay. A weekend for the books, to say the least. (Special thanks to the party paparazzi for donating their pictures. Photographers are cited beneath their pics. Feel free to send me more.)

The goats officially had their first "human interaction" this weekend. Saw that one coming. With somewhere in the ballpark of 100 people out back, they got plenty of exposure all day and night. They seemed to tolerate the entire ordeal fairly well though. They received a lot of attention from curious partygoers just interested in the fact that their were goats in the backyard. Others succeeded in rounding them up and putting t-shirts over their front halves. Give Willy credit for thinking up the "Eat Mor Pig" spoof on the Chik-fil-A cows. The goats didn't seem to care. Just kept kept on munching.

Another fiasco came when Millie, a visiting housedog from Cajunland, decided to test the goats' recreational value. My herd defended itself nicely, headbutting the old pooch before retreating to high ground. It's good to know the boys can throw down when they have to. Never know when an ambitious coyote or neighborhood poodle will need a beat down.

Lastly, Sunday afternoon I got a call saying one had escaped again. I use the term "escaped" loosely, because I honestly think they're too dumb to understand the idea of an enclosure. He simply put too much weight on my makeshift fence when leaning on it to reach some overhanging privet. The fence bent over and he walked over it to get more food. Apparently, it never left the area. Just sat there and ate. Much thanks to Taylor for goat wrangling. 15 minutes of fence mending and we were back in business with a superior, reinforced fencing solution.

It's beginning to become clear that there's not an exploratory trait in goats like there might be in a dog or cat. They're just interested in the next plant to dominate. Ultimately, that's good news for an urban goat owner. If they get out, it's just to eat the neighbor's plants. Not to chase the mailman.

Pictures and observations on their eating accomplishments are on the way.


10.03.2009

"You want a toe? I can get you a toe."

5:45 AM, time to start the late shift for the pig. It's a chore to keep my eyes open and fingers typing, so pardon the brevity. Just come and getcha some pig. Some of the 200 lbs of Cajun-cooked pig that's been spinning over a 3 x 7 foot fire for the past 12 hours. Pictures and details to be posted soon.

9.30.2009

"He's a good man. And thorough."

We just recently had our first two episodes of unexpected goat drama. Not to toot our own horns, but I think we mopped up the mess pretty quickly for 5 goat noobs.

Farmer Charlie wasn't kidding when she equated these goats to escape artists. The little rascals squeezed through a hole no wider than their bodies where the hog wire fencing meets the much taller wooden fence. Luckily, Dusty, Taylor, and Willy all pulled into the driveway before the goats had a chance to wander out of the side yard and into view of malicious dogs and law-abiding citizens. Crisis averted and lesson learned.

Our white dude with horns was feeling a little under the weather Monday afternoon. I don't want to get too graphic, but in case one of you out there is a prospective goat owner, a little detail might be beneficial. Big Al, we'll call him, was having trouble digesting something he ate. A quick google of "My goat's throwing up. What do I do?" turned up Doctor Dan's solution of baking soda. Sure enough, a pan of Willy's baking soda and hay later, Big Al was back to normal and enjoying the back yard.

In other news, I'm concerned with the number of mosquitoes swarming around goats. Rubbing some hardcore deet product from the bottom of my hiking backpack seems to be a temporary fix, but Big Al is the only goat okay with me getting close enough. Looks like I'll be fighting a silent war of attrition against the avian blood suckers. Here's my first two moves:

  1. The local fire station gives out free larvae-killing brickettes to put in standing water. There's a half a donut's worth dissolved under the uprooted tree stump and two more on deck should I find any more stagnant sources of evil.
  2. Remember the nasty tube you squeeze on the back of your pet's neck to protect against fleas, ticks, etc.? I picked up a generic pack of three for large dogs and wolves at Tractor Supply the other day. Again, Big Al's the only one cool with that much contact. The other two just made Mark and I look stupid chasing them all around the yard. Their treatments will have to wait until I can corral them up on the bridge.



9.28.2009

"Now that's f*ing combat."

Our three goat eating machine took a break yesterday to provide a little entertainment. This hornless guy has proved himself the best climber, scrambling up the downed tree trunk to munch on some English ivy. He looked pretty nimble up there, even when squeezing around a thick vertical limb.

The bridge seems to have become the goats' favorite hang out when they finally get bored of chewing. Usually, they'll all three lay down and nap at the highest point on the bridge, up against the entrance to the patio. Yesterday, however, the three got into a pretty intense game of King of the Hill. It was no Battle at Kruger, but it still reminded me of a Discovery Channel special on highland rams. The little guys would raise up on both hind legs, swing their heads down and around to get some momentum, then gently butt heads with each other, backing the opponent down the bridge before scampering back to the high ground to do it all again. The entire ordeal lasted about 15 minutes, plenty of time to call additional spectators out of the house to watch.

The goats are pretty fascinating to watch. The back deck has turned into a viewing platform of sorts, with house guests and residents forming an ever present audience. If livestock sociology were offered as a course, we'd certainly have a leg up on the competition. Rarely do the three brothers get separated. Individually, each goat appears to wander randomly from plant to plant. But, as a whole, they never get farther apart than a couple of yards. Other times, they'll gang up on a patch of horseweed and go to town for a few minutes, only to have their interest caught by a neighboring weed.

Judging from the scorecard in yesterday's tag team matchup, there doesn't seem to be a distinct aggressor or alpha male. All three got in the mix and appeared to hold their own. One in particular, all white with horns, had an impressive take on an Albert Haynesworth swim move. And, just like Big Al, he wasn't afraid to play dirty when things got physical. Horns up under the belly and kicks to the side. If you're not cheatin', you're not tryin'.