"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.

"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'.

Goats goin' to work.

I'm justifying putting up this embarrassing picture with the fact that it gives a human scale to the plants around him. A necessary evil.

Again, here's some more if you're really digging these goat pictures.

Miss Charlie's Goat Farm

Some goats under the barn

Ray misbehaving

Notice the blood on Andy's forehead. Wrangling up goats in tight quarters got real in a hurry.

Miss Chuck's pastoral views

Here's a few more, if you're interested.

"And a good day to you, sir!"

What a day yesterday was. Started around 7:00 AM with a biscuit and gravy from the dining hall, then off to the Dougie House to do some last minute repairs to the fence. I got rained on briefly, but there's enough trees on the property to make light sprinkles bearable. There must have been some fraternizing last night, because I think I spooked a few co-eds while working close to the downstairs windows. The unnamed pack of females emerged from the basement, wished me luck with my goats, and started off on their "walk of shame." Dougies doin' work.

Met Miss Charlie the goat farmer and her husband, Andy, around 10:30. We went straight up to the barn and I got a little lesson on worming. My trio was already hanging out in a pen under the barn. After entering the pen, you pick a winner, grab him by the leg, hold on like Hell, and wrestle his head still against your hip. It looked a little something like this, only my goats didn't seem to enjoy it as much.

Once you've got their head in a People's headlock, they chill a little. But then you have to squirt some nasty yellow concoction down their throats. They make it very obvious they don't appreciate it. Struggling, spitting, and making the most obnoxious yelling noise right in your face. The Amish dude in the video above must really love on his goats, because my experience was no where near as peaceful.

Then we loaded up the goats in the back of the Jeep and talked for awhile. True to her word, Miss Chuck hooked us up with 3 feed pans, a bale of hay, and some feed. She and her husband are extremely friendly and generous and were a pleasure to work with. All in all, I dropped under $150. (I'm including the cost of a $2 lottery ticket. I haven't scratched it yet, but I'll keep you updated.)

The ride home was surprisingly uneventful. I only caught one person in the next lane laughing at me and my mobile herd, but there could have been more.

Upon arriving, Willy and Taylor came out to greet the new landscaping crew. The goats didn't seem to care much about their new friends, seeing as they didn't look up from eating until 6 hours later. Literally as soon as their hooves hit the ground, they started chowing down. If it was green, they ate it. Like watching a bunch of chubby kids hit the candy aisle. I was ecstatic.

Until right before kickoff, I stuck around and observed my goats doing their thing. They just walked around, browsing on whatever greenery that happened to be near their mouths. From what I could tell, they don't have very picky tastes. In fact, they didn't seem to have much preference from one plant to the next. One minute they'd devour half a honeysuckle bush. The next they'd be shearing a privet stalk down to 12 inches off the ground. Brought tears to my eyes. Then, however, they'd move right along to my pepper plants, and annihilate them one at a time. I'm willing to make sacrifices though.

A CALL FOR ACTION

I'm taking name suggestions for our three male goats. The more creative/controversial the better. If I get enough good ideas, I'll let you vote on the best ones with one of Blogger's polling gadgets. Otherwise, they're going to end up being named something easy like Moe, Curly, and Larry. Make 'em interesting, like your three favorite presidents, or Jeff Goldblum characters' names.

"Man in the black pajamas."

Scott and I laced up the work boots and went to town on the jungle this afternoon. Solved the creek channel problem, uncovered some fencing from under the deck, sawed some trees, rearranged brush, relocated some cinder blocks, and built a shelter. At some point during all that, some good ol' boy delivered two truckloads of wood to smoke our pig over. So now there's a 5 foot high wall of stacked wood surrounding the pit. That's a lot of wood.

Notice the brilliant combination of form and function in this low budget example of Minimalist architecture. Holla at ya boy Ludwig, reppin' the "Less is Mo'." Unfortunately, it' will only be on display for the public temporarily. The cinder blocks will be placed around the pork pit, and the "Free Palestine" rally-goers want their sign back. (This particular side reads "Tear down this wall!" It took Taylor about 15 minutes of exposure to start yelling his new favorite phrase. Pretty funny.) Next week we'll have to build a more stable structure. Assuming no tornadoes or Palestine haters sweep through the backyard, this baby should last the weekend.

The creek channel issue was resolved by jamming the frat dumpster salvaged wood horizontally above the water. It's got enough space for higher water and your everyday flotsam to pass under, but no goat's gonna go through the trouble. It isn't like this place is Alcatraz. They should perfectly content chilling in our back yard.

The deadline for the fencing to be ready to go is tomorrow around 9:45 AM. It shouldn't take long though. Under the deck and entangled in English ivy, we unearthed several bundles of black plastic fencing and a dozen stakes. Scissors work fine on shaping the fencing to size, so that chore shouldn't take more than an hour. Plus, in an exchange for a ride home, our buddy Archie donated a bag of zip ties to the cause. Another friend, Hans, is lending his SuperSize dog crate to help in the goat transportation process. "Friends like these, huh, Gary?"

I meet Miss Charlie tomorrow morning around 10:30 to pick up these three dudes. To date, our total cost has amounted to zero dollars. All salvaged or stolen goods with the help of only a rusty old saw. Good practice for 2012. The goats will be our first cost. Miss Charlie set the rate at a buck a pound. With each goat weighing at most 45 pounds, the most expensive scenario is under 150 bones, or clams, or whatever you call them. Not bad for a mute landscaping crew. I'll keep a running tab on the operation and compare the total cost to the crew alternative. Interesting to see how much cheaper it will be.

Several family members have expressed interest in investing in my goat venture. Word's gotten loose within the family tree that $20 bucks up front will get you a couple of pounds of prime goat meat for the freezer come Christmas time. Now I've got eager calls coming in from uncles and aunts, and Grandpa claims Uncle Al is willing to outbid all competitors. I'm hoping the Thanksgiving table turns into a livestock auction and I end up looking like a miniature CSA. "Goat farmer" on the resume?

Tomorrow, you'll see goats. Until then, this should tide you over.

Goat Toy

If our goats are anything like these badasses, this 3 sided compost pile and fallen tree should provide some entertainment.

Here's the creek entering Dunc' and Dora's property. Notice the existing fence a couple of feet above the water.

Student run vegetable garden on campus? Yes please.

Educational garden could come to University campus - News

How is this not a good idea? I know I'd be down to volunteer some grunt work and/or architectural drawings.

They're doing it right up at Yale, which should say something for it's credibility. Come on, Mike. You already goofed UGA's World Cup bid. Don't blow this one, too.

Backyard

This is a snapshot looking down from the top deck across the middle of the yard. Not Nat'l Geographic quality, I'm aware, but it'll have to work until Santa brings me a new camera. (Mom, I know you're out there.)

"Lotta ins. Lotta outs. Lotta what-have-yous."

Between the front page floods and project deadlines, not a whole lot was accomplished since the last post. I did, however, get a chance to talk to both neighbors. Here's the skinny:

I had spoken with Duncan the same day I met with Miss Charlie. Conditions weren't ideal. I was on the street with Duncan in his yard, separated by a wall of camellias. He seemed a little taken aback by our idea of housing three goats out back. He and his wife are avid gardeners, so I could tell it didn't take long for the image of goats munching on their annual flower beds to cross his mind. As predicted, his main concern was the goats using the creek channel/ditch as a passageway into his backyard.

He scoffed at the idea of installing fencing across the creek. Inevitably, debris would collect upstream and create a mess. He questioned the proposition's legality, as well. I'll admit to some truth stretching, but it didn't seem to improve his outlook. I left a little discouraged with only a "Well, we'll think about it."

Yesterday, I tried again with fresh vegetables as my ammunition. Dora answered the door this time. Unfortunately, I had interrupted supper, but she hung around the doorstep long enough to give some good news. The homegrown peppers couldn't have hurt our cause, but she said that they had decided the idea had some merit, and were excited to see the project along. In fact, Dora was a goat owner herself back in her day. So, she could turn out to be a valuable resource right next door.

The other neighbor, a Brazilian woman who's name I cannot pronounce or remember, is a professor at the veterinary college on campus. As any good animal lover would, she gave us the green light on the proposition. As is the case on the other side, this neighbor could be a good contact if anything ever goes wrong.

So, with a previous goat owner on one side and a veterinarian on the other, it's looking like we'd really have put a conscious effort into failing for this project to not succeed. Tonight's game plan is to construct some sort of shelter. Today's LAND3530 doodles and daydreams all point toward a three-sided structure of only cinder blocks and "Free Palestine" signs. But we'll see what happens.

"Ah. Nice marmot."

I met Miss Charlie this afternoon on her farm a few miles south of Watkinsville, GA. She's got a beautiful piece of property with hardwood creek bottoms, plenty of pasture, and a nice, homey house. The goat herd was up under the barn with the two coolest guard dogs you could ask for. Apparently, Great Pyrenees have an instinctual trait that makes them protective of "their" goats. Charlie vouched for them, saying that if I were to cause any kid to bleat or cry for help, those dogs would be at my side in seconds, ready to get physical. And I believe it. At waist high, those beasts could get up and throw 'bows in a heartbeat.

After being introduced to the herd, Charlie spied three young males that fit the bill perfectly. Born in April, these three dudes weighed about 35 pounds a piece, and would put on another 30 before the end of the year. Their size - a little above knee high - is ideal for our existing fence situation. After all, having three hungry goats can only mean less weeds.

Just like every other goat farmer I've come in contact with, Charlie was very generous and informative. I got brief tutorials on catching and worming goats, veterinary troubleshooting, and feed requirements. Nothing too complicated, from what I can tell. She was even nice enough to offer some spare equipment to help get my career as a goat farmer off the ground.

So, everything's peachy on the goat front. As of right now, we have the following:

• 3 goats ready for pickup on Tuesday
• Materials to build a shelter
• A great resource in Charlie
• A yard full of food

Yet, there a more than a few things we lack:

• A goat proof enclosure
• A shelter
• Neighbors' consent

I lied about the pictures. It rained the entire duration of my visit, so the camera stayed dry in the Jeep. They'll be up soon.

"That had not occurred to us, Dude."

A recent phone call to Miss Charlie, my newest Craigslist contact, has thrown some thought provoking factors into the mix. A goat farmer for 30 years, Charlie is an expert on all things goat. Turns out she's also a huge fan of goat meat. The first 25 minutes of the conversation was typical goat talk (grass, worms, water, etc), then she whipped out the possibility of raising goats for consumption. It got graphic quickly - killing, skinning, processing. And I was all ears.

So, I'm scheduled to meet with Miss Charlie tomorrow to examine her herd and further explore the possibility of raising goats for meat purposes. I'll be sure to take pictures to share.

Why eat the poor things?

Well, why not? It's certainly not a new idea. People have been chewing on goat meat for thousands of years. If Moses and his Old Testament buds were drinking wine around a goat spit, there's no reason why we can't too. Do a quick google search. Globally, goat meat is still one of the most popular meats eaten. Point is, it ain't that far fetched to be thinking about eating a goat.

Also, since the beginning, I've had in the back of my head the nagging concern of how this whole thing would end. There are Christmas, Spring, and Summer Breaks to take into consideration. Until now, I assumed I'd procrastinate as long as possible then cross that bridge when it was absolutely necessary. Obviously, that game plan's not going to win any awards. This will allow for a predictable timeline on the entire project.

There is also the argument that if I'm really interested in the idea of incorporating goats into the landscape, I should have this experience under my belt. I'd love to someday work goats into my designs of larger sites. And to be able to do that would require some knowledge of the subject. This route would definitely be valuable down the road.

Not to get too off topic, but eating these goats will be the first time my friends and I will be so connected with the food we eat. I'm afraid if I put on my locavore hat, I won't be able to stop typing, but it needs to be said that the average piece of food on your plate tonight will have travelled somewhere around 1500 miles to get there. You have no idea where the potato in your fry was grown, and you'll never shake the hand of the farmer that raised the chicken in your sandwich. It's frightening just how disconnected we are from the food we eat. This experience should be eye-opening.

"It's like Lenin said..."

Today's plans to begin repairing the existing fence had to be postponed. Instead, we used extra wood to construct a makeshift ark in anticipation of the remainder of this Biblical rain storm.

While I'm trapped indoors, I might as well give you the low down on the backyard:

• Creek: The backyard is split into two sections by a small creek. The water level rarely exceeds ankle-deep; however, it's probably kayakable as I write. The stream bed this trickle runs down has severely eroded banks - probably from rainstorms like today's.
• Bridge: The 8-foot chasm is traversable by means of two bridges, one on either side of the yard. The goats will be free to roam around both banks, as both sides have plenty of weeds in need of munching. Because one bridge is accessible from the porch, it's likely that one bridge will be reserved for Homo sapiens, and the other for Capra hircus.
• Garden: The Little Garden That Could is still holding on by a thread in a small patch along the creek. There's a few scraggly tomatoes and half a dozen or so pepper plants left, so the goats will have to be kept separate.
• Materials: Between several personal collections and a ecelectic trove of abandoned materials under the deck, we have the following available to us for construction and maintenance purposes:

1. Hammer and nails
2. Rusty old saw
3. Duct tape
4. Pile of 4" x 8' lumber rescued from a friend's fraternity dumpster
5. (18) cinder blocks from last year's pig roasting pit
6. Shovel and rake
7. Unknown amount of pre-loved chicken wire fencing
8. (3) 4' x 8' sections of recyclable plywood signage used in one of Nate's Free Palestine rallies
9. Several old 1- and 2-gallon plastic plant buckets

• Budget: Ideally, other than the initial cost of the goats, this entire adventure won't require any additional funding. If it does, expect "Goat Money" to show up on my Christmas wish list. We should be able to get by, though, until birthday and holiday cash starts rolling in. Having said that, there will probably be plenty of unpredictable expenditures. Having said that, it's important to stress my frugality. I'm not above liberating materials from UGA construction sites. Besides, their 2-6 am concrete pouring schedules are entirely incompatible with my sleep routine. And you could classify this as personal revenge for President Adam's decision to decline Athens' bid for hosting a 2018 World Cup match. Really, Mike? That's a no brainer, dude.

The weatherman's predicting rain everyday for the foreseeable future, so getting this thing off the ground is proving harder than I thought. I want to see a goat already.

"Look at our current situation..."

We light the grill for the 2nd annual Cochon de Lait in less than 3 weeks. A small army of friends and family are expected to descend upon the Dougie House to enjoy 200 lbs of Cajun-cooked swine and watch the 'Dawgs lay the wood to LSU. This Pig Roast has been the topic of conversation for a solid 11 months now, so it's safe to say expectations for this 48 hour affair are high.

Problem: The backyard resembles a small national forest. Poison ivy, privet, honeysuckle, English ivy. You name it, it's probably back there. And in large quantities. Altogether, it looks uninviting, overgrown, and probably unsafe. Like a scene out of a John Rambo movie. It's a big back yard. And the residents aren't chomping at the bit to get back there with machetes and Roundup. So what's a poor college student to do?

Answer: Slash and burn agriculture? -Nah, probably frowned upon.

Napalm? - Nope. Fresh out.

Two female Nubian goats? - Yahtzee.

Over the next few weeks, for both a quasi-academic study and personal enjoyment, I'll be documenting our experiences with these two goats. In case there's more of you out there wondering if goats are the solution to all your problems, I'll to try to be as descriptive and informative as possible without turning this blog into a dry, online textbook. Among other unpredictable observations, look for the following themes to come up in my postings in the immediate future:

• Fencing
• Shelter
• Enough food occurring naturally?

(And what's all this hype about goats eating anything? They'll be in pretty close contact with drunk college kids, so we should have some interesting reports by the end of the semester.)

• Water
• Naming the goats

(Any ideas? The more controversial the better.)

• Noisy?
• Skittish vs. friendly
• Amusement factor
• Will the neighbors care?
• How cheap can I get a goat?
• How long till the excitement wears off and we realize we're stuck with 2 female goats?

As of right now, we're at square one. All we've got is a Craigslist contact, a lot of weeds, and an existing fence in need of repair. There is, however, some old bundles of fencing under the deck. So, by this time tomorrow, the goal is a functioning, goat-proof enclosure.

"Wave of the future, Dude. 100 percent electronic."

While I hope more interesting, this post should at least come across as one of a much different tone. My dark, scary perceptions of the internet and technology have been successfully replaced with shinier, happier images in a matter of minutes. My roommate Adam just hooked me up with two clutch improvements:

1. Plugging in my ethernet cable. I still don't know what "Mbps" means, but I used to get excited about my connection topping out at 15 units. He plugged something in, clicked a button, and we were talking 300. Right off the bat. Hell yeah.
2. Switching my web browser to Google Chrome. I had no idea Internet Explorer was considered so archaic. But now I've seen the light.

30 minutes ago, the words "ethernet" or "web browser" weren't a part of my vocabulary. How far till the noob finish line?

Next post is about goats. I promise.

"You're like a child that wonders into a movie."

This is my first post. And it's a whiner. I have no idea what I'm doing and am completely out of my element with this blog design process. Way too many options and check boxes for a first timer.

Does this designate me a "noob?"

Among other things, I suppose this blogging experience will improve my computer literacy. Rock bottom isn't a good place to be upon entering the work force. Blew my mind the other day that we no longer have to write "www."

I'll post again shortly. With more interesting content, I hope.