I heart baby goats

by annie

"This is so romantic, baby" says Brian as we're standing together in a goat barn in Ballingeary, Ireland, each with wellies (rubber boots) up to our knees, a scrub brush in my hand and a pitch fork in his. "There's nothing I'd rather do with my girl than shovel goat shit" he continues. He's being facetious of course. We grin, a momentary distraction from the weeks-old urine-turned-ammonia burning the hairs in our nose. If that sounds bad, try stabbing a pitchfork into several layers of poo, urine and matted hay, unleashing fumes that have been marinating under the tight seal of newer layers of poo, urine and matted hay. It's the shag carpet of your nightmares. And it makes for quite a headache, which is why we generally limit ourselves to cleaning 2 or 3 stalls per day.

We each have one, and only one, pair of pants that grace the halls of the goat stalls. With such limited clothing in our rucksacks, we cannot afford to risk more than one pair getting permanently stained or perfumed or chewed by curious, smelly goats. These special pants will most likely require more than one wash before suitable to wear anywhere else. Dirt and poo and a mix of the two are everywhere in the barn: on the sides of water buckets, in their water buckets, on their hooves, on the floor, and hey wait, how did that get on my jacket?!

If it sounds like I'm complaining, you've got me wrong. I absolutely adore the goats. They are curious, sweet and gentle, with a nice streak of naughty. They love to stick their heads into all the other goats' food buckets. They rarely go where we ask them to go, at least not without a fight. They are master escape artists. When a female is in heat, the males scream in agony, producing an unsettling sound worthy of a horror flick. Brian calls one of these males, "Rebel Yell" ( after a Billy Idol song). Some of them like to be pet, others want to sniff your face or eat your clothes.









And the babies, they just love a good cuddle and a bottle of milk.


Aside from getting to feed the babies, there are several perks to helping on this farm:

1. Fresh goat milk. It's delicious in a glass, in cereal or tea, or made into ice cream (vanilla bean and honey vanilla are two flavors we've tried so far). Since I'm allergic to cow dairy, it's the perfect, creamy alternative (stand down, soy milk)!
   
2. Sauna. Sean has a very nice sauna in his home that we can use when we want.
3. Free time. We rarely do more than 1-3 hours of work per day, allowing us ample time to sleep in, read, watch the Irish National Hurling Championships (hurling is a sport, not a vomiting contest) or walk into the nearby village of Ballingeary.

Until yesterday, the weather in Ireland has been intensely rainy. Even the Irish are complaining! Parks are flooded, plains are puddles and days are soggy and cold. Portland winters have suddenly become Little League. Understandably, we haven't done as much outdoor exploring as we would like. It's been a relaxed, mellow time in green, green Ireland!

Click HERE for more pics of Ballingeary and funny goat faces.

In case you missed our adventures in Amsterdam, you can find them HERE.