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| Cristal - "Got anything good?" |
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Introducing: Cristal
It occurred to me the other day that when I don't have anything witty to say, I can always talk about my goats. (ALWAYS.) So I thought, why not start introducing everyone! A little background information, if you will. I don't know how far it'll go, but it's only logical to start with the goat that started it all: Cristal!
I know it's not the greatest photo ever, but for all that she's been here longer than any other goat we have, I have almost no pictures of her. When I was seven, I announced that I was going to get a white goat and name it Cristal - and she's still here! You can tell she's old just by looking at her, and she's a crotchety thing, but there you go. She was never a super lovey-dovey goat, and is still more interested in babies and food (in that order) than in people, but despite her standoffish, no-touchie personality, she's a sucker for a backscratch. She loves having kids (since her "retirement" in 2005 she's gotten herself bred twice) and currently lives under the same roof as her daughter, four granddaughters, five great-grandchildren, and three great-great-grandchildren. (And there are four more sets of kids due from her family alone!) Cristal is the matriarch of my grade line - her daughter Tahoe is my special baby, and her granddaughter Kitten is the highest appraising goat in my barn. Her progeny (through Tahoe) have the best-tasting milk and are unusually smart, laid-back, and easy to milk at the same time. She's a very "been there, done that" kind of goat, and will most definitely be here until the day she dies.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Home Sweet Home
When most people think of Spring Break, they think of things like vacations, sleeping, going out and having fun, movies, family and friends. I think of all those things too, but for me breaks and weekends often mean more work than school days. I tend to think "Great, no school, I can finally do ____" and pack everything I need to do into as short of a time as possible.
So, this week I finally made it down to visit Summerhill Dairy in Hanford, CA. Summerhill is a fantastic place with a lot of really cool people, well-cared for goats and one of the most fascinating milking parlors I've ever seen. They are certified humane and spend a ton of time making sure their goats are well-fed, healthy, comfortable and generally well-cared for. I spent a day and a half touring the facility, seeing the goats, and helping with milking, preg checks, sorting dry does, giving shots, etc - generally getting a feel for the place. Each of their goats has a number and an RFID tag, which is read as they come in to be milked so that their milk production is recorded and sent straight to the computer. Goats don't get names (except for a few special ones, like 12-year-old 2-gallon-a-day-milker Jazz) and although they receive the highest level of care, they generally prefer to avoid people. Which is completely fine - they don't have to be friendly, and in truth they're easier to bring in and milk that way because they'll actually move away from you instead of trying to climb into your pocket.
HOWEVER.
After spending two days working with goats who could care less if I existed, wanted to be left alone, and often had to be cornered to be caught or moved, it was so incredibly refreshing to come home and be greeted by forty-odd furry faces who couldn't wait to see me:
Just spending time with the girls, seeing them respond to their names, and scratching heads and backs was really cathartic. It was especially cute to watch a few of them (notably, Tina, Lyra and Zephyr) come charging over to plaster themselves against my legs and try to chew on my belt loops. I get way too attached to my goats; but how could I not? Sometimes I find them irritating, but I get over it. Tisane often gets my attention - when it's not 100% on her - by sneaking up behind me and jumping on my back, then ducking the hand that swings back at her to get her off and sticking her head between my legs. (Can you tell she's done it a few times?) Even at my grumpiest I can't stay mad at that irrepressible little face.
So...from a purely economic point of view, it makes more sense not to name or tame the animals you're working with any more than necessary. But then, from a purely economic point of view, it makes no sense to have a herd of show goats in the first place. Coming home to these guys just reminds me that all the work really is worth it.
So, this week I finally made it down to visit Summerhill Dairy in Hanford, CA. Summerhill is a fantastic place with a lot of really cool people, well-cared for goats and one of the most fascinating milking parlors I've ever seen. They are certified humane and spend a ton of time making sure their goats are well-fed, healthy, comfortable and generally well-cared for. I spent a day and a half touring the facility, seeing the goats, and helping with milking, preg checks, sorting dry does, giving shots, etc - generally getting a feel for the place. Each of their goats has a number and an RFID tag, which is read as they come in to be milked so that their milk production is recorded and sent straight to the computer. Goats don't get names (except for a few special ones, like 12-year-old 2-gallon-a-day-milker Jazz) and although they receive the highest level of care, they generally prefer to avoid people. Which is completely fine - they don't have to be friendly, and in truth they're easier to bring in and milk that way because they'll actually move away from you instead of trying to climb into your pocket.
HOWEVER.
After spending two days working with goats who could care less if I existed, wanted to be left alone, and often had to be cornered to be caught or moved, it was so incredibly refreshing to come home and be greeted by forty-odd furry faces who couldn't wait to see me:
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| Okay, they also wanted food, but they all came running when they heard me. L to R: Carly (hiding next to the post), Patricia, Talia, Caidy, Ears, Atlanta and Llady. |
So...from a purely economic point of view, it makes more sense not to name or tame the animals you're working with any more than necessary. But then, from a purely economic point of view, it makes no sense to have a herd of show goats in the first place. Coming home to these guys just reminds me that all the work really is worth it.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Baby LaManchas!
Most of my goats are Saanens, but I long ago fell in love with LaManchas and finally got two of them a few years ago. However, for various reasons, I've never actually gotten purebred LaMancha kids. Last fall I had the opportunity to breed does to a really lovely LaMancha buck, Elm*Glen Brazil - and having seen several of his (fabulous) daughters in person, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Violet made the trip to Manteca in October - and miraculously developed a sudden hatred for males in general. She was such a witch that day that we weren't sure if she would actually settle, but crossed our fingers and hoped for the best. I was pretty convinced that she would be open, or that she would have something to the tune of triplet bucks, just to spite me. That's just how she is. I was in for a pleasant surprise...
Introducing: Corsica and Valencia!
That's right, twin does. Apparently Violet thinks that proving me wrong is more important than spiting me. Or something. Whatever the reason, I'm not complaining. When they were born I was a little let down that they were both black, but once dry their color lightened up a bit. Valencia has a white belly and a funny two-tone off-black color; Corsica, to my delight, has turned a lovely silvery brown! The first Lamancha I fell in love with was a chocolate-colored doe, so it's basically been my goal in life to have a light brown LaMancha. I won't breed for color - at least I tell myself I won't - but it's definitely a perk.
These two also have personalities the size of Texas - Corsica is the intrepid explorer, while Valencia is more of a mama's girl. Both of them have tons of 'tude while in the pen, and simply walking in with them elicits a rather impressive display of jumping around, shaking their heads, marching up to you and snorting before they start trying to nibble on the nearest piece of your clothing. And yet, they are so sweet and snuggly when you pick them up. I am quite enchanted.
I'm also finding it extremely difficult to get photos of them because they're so darn wiggly. Below are what I've managed to glean out of 50+ attempts...enjoy!
Introducing: Corsica and Valencia!
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| BABIES! They're still wet in this photo - better ones are below. Corsica is on the left, Valencia on the right. |
These two also have personalities the size of Texas - Corsica is the intrepid explorer, while Valencia is more of a mama's girl. Both of them have tons of 'tude while in the pen, and simply walking in with them elicits a rather impressive display of jumping around, shaking their heads, marching up to you and snorting before they start trying to nibble on the nearest piece of your clothing. And yet, they are so sweet and snuggly when you pick them up. I am quite enchanted.
I'm also finding it extremely difficult to get photos of them because they're so darn wiggly. Below are what I've managed to glean out of 50+ attempts...enjoy!
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| Valencia's totally in the way, but you can sort of see how lovely Corsica looks when she's standing still. And I LOVE her color! |
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| Corsica! I'll eventually figure out how to rotate photos, but for now if you cock your head to the left you'll notice how adorable she is. |
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| Valencia has just a wee bit of an attitude. |
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| Again, I'll eventually get this righted... "Oh look, a SHINY OBJECT!" |
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| Valencia! "Whatcha doin, mom?" I don't have as many photos of her...who me? Play favorites? Lies. All lies. |
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| Nothing beats having a sister to snuggle up with. |
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Field Day
Things have been crazy busy lately thanks to the UC Davis Agricultural and Environmental Sciences Field Day, which was held this past Saturday. Field Day is where FFA'ers (and 4-H'ers, although they're pretty rare) come to compete in one of 26 different contests, including things like Parliamentary Procedure, Ag Mechanics, Vegetable Crops, Floriculture, Public Speaking, and judging animals - including poultry, livestock, horse, and dairy cattle. Each contest has its own coordinator(s), tests, competitors and judges, and the degree of difficulty and time require for preparation varies as well. I was one of the co-coordinators for the dairy cattle contest, which is probably one of the most intensive contests there is. Not to toot our own horn or anything.
Here's the way animal judging competitions generally work: there are several classes, and each class has four animals in it, generally numbered 1-2-3-4. Contestants evaluate the animals and place them from best to worst - for example, if sheep #2 was the best, then sheep #4 was second best, and sheep #1 was the worst, the placing would be 2-4-3-1. The contestants' placing is then compared to placings which have been made by the official ("expert") judges, and contestants are then scored based on how close they are to the official placing. There's a customary method for scoring, too, but I won't go in to that. As if that weren't stressful enough, after placing each class, contestants will have to give oral reasons on one or more classes - go into a separate room with the official judge(s) and, from memory, recite the reasons why they put those animals in that order.
In most cases, the other side of the contest is fairly straightforward. Whoever is putting together the contest chooses a class of animals, maybe gives them a bath and/or a haircut a few days before Field Day, and puts them in a pen for all the FFA'ers to judge. Simple, right? Straightforward. Easy. To the point. I had to choose dairy cattle. *sigh*
Dairy cattle are all shown during the contest - not put in a pen, but actually paraded around on a halter and posed so that contestants can see them all at the same time. This means that we start putting classes together in January, then halterbreak all the animals that haven't been shown before (usually about half of them). Dairy cattle are also clipped for judging - and a holstein cow has a LOT of hair. Clipping works best if the animal is clean, and cows love to get dirty, so each cow gets probably three or four baths in the two weeks leading up to field day. We have five classes on Field Day - that's 20 animals that all have to be halterbroken, calm enough to show with a bunch of people staring at them, washed, body clipped and cared for. In addition, classes are run two at a time, which means that we have to have at least 8 people trained and available to show them during the contest while everyone else is herding FFA'ers, keeping cows clean, getting the next classes ready, taking care of the 3 official judges, and generally putting out fires.
The last few days before Field Day are especially hectic. During the last week, we take ALL the cows and heifers out to the show area to get them used to it, and finish clipping. We also go over our entries and put together the judging cards the contestants will use to mark their placings - someone else prints them for us, but we still have to tear apart the three-card sheets and bundle them into a neat little packet for each contestant. The day before, we put up the show ring, make posters for each ring and each reasons room, rearrange heifers, put straw in the barn where the cows will stay while they're not being shown, organize the show halters, and do whatever else hasn't been finished. Then on contest day - remember how they love to get dirty? - we're up at 3:30 AM to wash all 20 cows, get them tied in the clean barn with feed and water, and get ready for the contest to start at 8. Then we're off and running with cows being kept clean, shown and returned to the barn, FFA'ers and officials judging, lunch (which was delivered an hour and a half late), and running reasons. We had 86 contestants this year (!) and each of them had to give three sets of reasons - even running all three simultaneously, it still took about 3 hours to do Reasons. Once reasons are done, we bring the cows and heifers back out for the "critique," which is when the officials to tell the contestants the placings (and why they placed the class that way). After critique, the contestants scatter, we get the cows taken care of and put away and take everything down again, clean out the barn, and turn into vegetables.
This year's contest went extremely well, thanks to all the volunteer help we had and some herculean work from my co-coordinator Gretchen. The judges were great, none of the contestants cried/complained/got run over, the cows (mostly) behaved, we had Halley scanning all the judging cards and keeping up with tabulations so we could get done quickly, and in general everything just worked (with the notable exception of lunch, but what can you do). Here's hoping next year goes as well!
PS. Sorry this is so long! I could have written three times this much and not covered all of the details...but you get the picture.
Here's the way animal judging competitions generally work: there are several classes, and each class has four animals in it, generally numbered 1-2-3-4. Contestants evaluate the animals and place them from best to worst - for example, if sheep #2 was the best, then sheep #4 was second best, and sheep #1 was the worst, the placing would be 2-4-3-1. The contestants' placing is then compared to placings which have been made by the official ("expert") judges, and contestants are then scored based on how close they are to the official placing. There's a customary method for scoring, too, but I won't go in to that. As if that weren't stressful enough, after placing each class, contestants will have to give oral reasons on one or more classes - go into a separate room with the official judge(s) and, from memory, recite the reasons why they put those animals in that order.
In most cases, the other side of the contest is fairly straightforward. Whoever is putting together the contest chooses a class of animals, maybe gives them a bath and/or a haircut a few days before Field Day, and puts them in a pen for all the FFA'ers to judge. Simple, right? Straightforward. Easy. To the point. I had to choose dairy cattle. *sigh*
Dairy cattle are all shown during the contest - not put in a pen, but actually paraded around on a halter and posed so that contestants can see them all at the same time. This means that we start putting classes together in January, then halterbreak all the animals that haven't been shown before (usually about half of them). Dairy cattle are also clipped for judging - and a holstein cow has a LOT of hair. Clipping works best if the animal is clean, and cows love to get dirty, so each cow gets probably three or four baths in the two weeks leading up to field day. We have five classes on Field Day - that's 20 animals that all have to be halterbroken, calm enough to show with a bunch of people staring at them, washed, body clipped and cared for. In addition, classes are run two at a time, which means that we have to have at least 8 people trained and available to show them during the contest while everyone else is herding FFA'ers, keeping cows clean, getting the next classes ready, taking care of the 3 official judges, and generally putting out fires.
The last few days before Field Day are especially hectic. During the last week, we take ALL the cows and heifers out to the show area to get them used to it, and finish clipping. We also go over our entries and put together the judging cards the contestants will use to mark their placings - someone else prints them for us, but we still have to tear apart the three-card sheets and bundle them into a neat little packet for each contestant. The day before, we put up the show ring, make posters for each ring and each reasons room, rearrange heifers, put straw in the barn where the cows will stay while they're not being shown, organize the show halters, and do whatever else hasn't been finished. Then on contest day - remember how they love to get dirty? - we're up at 3:30 AM to wash all 20 cows, get them tied in the clean barn with feed and water, and get ready for the contest to start at 8. Then we're off and running with cows being kept clean, shown and returned to the barn, FFA'ers and officials judging, lunch (which was delivered an hour and a half late), and running reasons. We had 86 contestants this year (!) and each of them had to give three sets of reasons - even running all three simultaneously, it still took about 3 hours to do Reasons. Once reasons are done, we bring the cows and heifers back out for the "critique," which is when the officials to tell the contestants the placings (and why they placed the class that way). After critique, the contestants scatter, we get the cows taken care of and put away and take everything down again, clean out the barn, and turn into vegetables.
This year's contest went extremely well, thanks to all the volunteer help we had and some herculean work from my co-coordinator Gretchen. The judges were great, none of the contestants cried/complained/got run over, the cows (mostly) behaved, we had Halley scanning all the judging cards and keeping up with tabulations so we could get done quickly, and in general everything just worked (with the notable exception of lunch, but what can you do). Here's hoping next year goes as well!
PS. Sorry this is so long! I could have written three times this much and not covered all of the details...but you get the picture.
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