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:

• there's a roll of neglected hog wire begging to be pilfered and strung up,
• one of the two creek channel fences needs a makeover, and
• we desperately need a better way to keep goats off the bridge.

"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.)

"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.

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 patch of light green reedy plants by the creek was taken care of pretty quickly too. I'm not 100% sure on its ID, but if I had to guess, I'd go with Nepalese Browntop. If you happen to know the mystery plant, don't be shy. Be a hero and let everybody know through the comment box.

• 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.

"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.

Goat Shelter/Dougie Guest House

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.

Mark Powers' Goat Photography

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!"

Future 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.

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.

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

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."

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."

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.)

"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.

"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.