If you scroll back several days, you'll see a picture of my wonderful cousin's goats. I said I'd update the post with their names but I've let enough time pass that merely updating the post would be missed. So let me get the information into a post that, sadly, doesn't feature a picture. Their names are Tippy, Tulip and Tinkerbell. My cousin allowed a young relative to name them and I think she did a good job. The naming of goats is always dicey.
When I was young, Lycurgus and I "had" goats. The family had two neutered males (billy goats flat out stink unless they're neutered) which were pressed into service gnawing down the luxuriant undergrowth in the woods around the house. I was visiting the people who had the pregnant nanny on the day "my" goat was born. I didn't see the actual birth but I was the first to spot that the birth had happened. Kinda gross but I was a boy child so gross was all right with me. Since I was there, I got naming rights and after he was weaned and snipped, "Billy the Kid" (I was clever even then, wasn't I?) became a member of the family.
Brother Lycurgus had some connection to the arrival of "his" goat but memory fails me as to what it was. In any event, his naming rights produced "Rodney." But say that "R-ah-ah-ah-dney" with a good bleat and you have the name as it was destined to be.
Something I found interesting later in life was that these goats were large. They were easily two and a half feet tall at the shoulder, wonderfully white and had serious horns. At some point, I will dig up a pic of the lads, scan it and post it but for now, take my word for it - these guys could cause some damage with those head scimitars if they wanted to. But brother and I were absolutely and totally in control. They knew from the start that we were their masters. My sister ... who will be called Andromeda on the blog for the nonce ... never established any kind of control over them and had huge trouble wrangling them. Such is the Tao of Ungulates.
My cousin's goats are of a smaller variety. And they are there for the milk. But I'll let her tell their story as it stands:
I have started separating the mother and kids at night so I can get the morning milk. Today I am making cheese for the first time since last Thanksgiving. It will be nice to have it again. Queenie is still getting used to being milked, so it is not as peaceful as I would like but we are making progress every day.And so it goes. She makes fantastic chèvre.