Marilyn’s Gone A’Wooing

There’s a great many stories happened since I last posted; life sort of got away on me. Some might make it into print at a later date, some were just the bumph of living, but this one is right up to date: Miss Marilyn’s gone a’wooing.

Last year’s lockdown put paid to our goatie girls kidding/milking plans for the season and so this year we decided we’d get ourselves sorted in a timely manner. One of our dreams at our former Homestead was to have our very own buck but a rethink (basically bucks are smelly, their presence at milking is said to taint the milk, and they can get really bulshy) had us deciding to keep our own ram instead (not smelly, we don’t milk the sheep, and they’re not quite as devilishly cunning) and outsource for our buck requirements. But to who?

In the end, having decided the breed we were keen on introducing to the herd, a personal ad was placed on the appropriate facebook page (NZ Goat Talk) – with an accompanying photograph, of course.

Irresistible!

Marilyn’s missive had barely flittered off into the ether before the offers started pinging in. King Rupert of Brooklands was the one who finally won her favour being the right breed and pretty irresistible himself.

And so it was our Marilyn and a couple of bales of Homestead hay (the asking price) were loaded into the back of The Farmer’s pride and joy ute and the hour long trip was undertaken. We pick her up again in 42 days time and while it’s always hard to wave goodbye, Rupert’s humans are likeminded folk who seemed as taken with Marilyn as we are with Rupert. They even sent us a photo of the happy couple the following morning.

Here on the Homestead it’s a case of while the cat’s away

Sandra in the number one house? Leia sitting down during the day? A sheep in the goat’s inner sanctum?

Marilyn will have to get the whip out on her return!

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