Trials & Tribulations of a Hobby Farmer.

cavemanrich · Dec 3, 2017

Connie, this one here looks like my rooster..

Is it possible they were TWINS, separated at birth..... :gig

Lazy Farmer · Dec 8, 2017

The Story Of Junior..

So anyway, here it is.. Without bringing the drama to the main stream of threads.
I am perfectly fine. Sad but fine. It just seems like the critters I become attached to are the tainted ones.
Bucks are usually rotten dis-positioned. They have a job to do. Mate & protect the Herd.
Hubby had to put down our first buck over a year ago. He was a serial killer, fence destroyer, gate smasher, post snapper and on and on. He went to the dark side. Had to be put down in prevention of future deaths of herd members, property damage, human injury/death or law suits if he ever got off the property and hurt somebody or worse. He was a tank & a threat. Originally named Broady, His later years appropriately renamed BAM BAM.
Zero attachment for that mean bruiser. Especially when he killed my Nanny Shelia. Shelia was DH's first Nigerian Goat. She had a place in his heart. When Bam Bam snapped over a fence post and grounded out the 8000 volt hot wire which kept him in his paddock, he went after the Alpha Nanny named Shelia. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. She didn't want or need to be matted but Monster Buck had different ideas. He stressed her out so bad she had a stroke. her eyes went solid red. She passed away fast. DH sent me and our daughter to the Grocery Store and told us to take our time.
I never saw Bam Bam again. He was in the ground.
No hard feelings. It had to be done. It was him or us. I had no attachment to the monster he had become. Shelia was burred in a super deep hole and Bam Bam was in a shallow grave 5 feet away.

Junior. Bam jr. Son of Broady. Just joined that grave spot. Never hurt a flea. Would follow me around, eat from my hand. Let me brush him, trim hoofs. Such a gentle giant.
He had his own little habitat fenced in the trees. He would always cry out for attention if he was to see me in the distance. Like a happy dog. Begging for a treat. His voice/sound, made my day when I had the blues. He was always there to make me smile.
After the Hurricane came thru, we had to move him into Bam Bam's old pen. About a 200' X 200' pen with giant rocks, a house etc. because a split 'V"-shaped tree was threatening to take the fence line out where Jr was kept.
Shortly after taking him out of his habitat his health was challenged. He was depressed, slowly stopped eating.
Under supervision from our mobile Vet who was out here for another Goat that had urinary calculi, she inspected Jr. and wrote it off to be depression from separation and possible parasites. We treated him and tried to keep nutrition in him but he was rapidly losing weight and muscle.
Without me reliving the entire saga, I won't go into details of the down hill skid.
In the end, he was on life support. Could not function. Could not stand. Then could not sit. We stopped drenching nutridrench/thiamine/pro biotics/Red Cell daily in the very final hours.
He was a vegetable with out those chemical treatments. It was hard for me to stop drenching to find out the results. Even with the treatments he had no back legs. He was moved from spot to spot. Trying to make his final days comfortable as possible. The last 3-4 days we were doping him up with Banamine. The hole was already in the ground prior. The day was set for Wednesday the 6th. I said no.. selfishly on that day when it came. Thursday when I sat with him for awhile, saying my goodbyes, he just stared right thru me.
I gave him 3 times the dosage of pain killer. He was resting peacefully. I told DH ok. now. I went into the house. I still can hear the gun shot.
He is in the ground. Covered with roses from or rose bushes. Right next to his Mother and Father.

We cull Chickens and Swine more than I care to elaborate. Without flinching or conscience. Same with Cows.
But most of my Goats are my pets more than livestock. We have sold off a bunch. But have kept some Nannies and some offspring that I've taking a shine to. There are 2 or 3 I could part with, the aggressive ones. But the kind ones I become attached and that is my own fault. When raising livestock, eventually you have dead stock. It is a fact. Separation of attachments and emotions is a must.
But silly me had to fall in love with a small handful of my Goat Herd.
Jr. was part of that small handful.

I am fine today. A little sad but knowing he is not suffering any more and the weight is off my shoulders and the hole in my heart has a band aid.
I'm cool with it. Not depressed. No crying my eyes out. The tub of remedies has been put back on the shelf. The rest of the herd is roaming from paddock to paddock following my alpha Nanny. But I'm going to miss that deep voice cry out for attention.
Rest in Peace Junior.