I've given up.
I called the butcher today and put our three goats on the schedule.
When I called the butcher, a really nice, sweet lady answered. I had been expecting someone who sounded like Lothar of the Hill People.
She said, "Can I help you?"
I said sheepishly (Pun intended. Sheep are not goats but I'm using it.), "I've got three dairy goats that..."
I was at a loss. What do I say to a butcher? Do I have to tell her why I'm sending them away? Does she want the back story? Was she going to tell me that dairy goats are not worth the cost? Was she going to yell at me because I had no idea what I'm doing.
She said, "Okay. Three goats. That's not a problem for us. In fact, we specialize in butchering animals for small farms."
"Great." I say. "So look, I have no idea what I'm doing. We just moved to this property and decided to raise goats. So I got these dairy goats and I was going to milk them. But, the thing is, I just don't like them. They're such a pain in the ass that we decided we should eat them instead."
You know what she did?
She laughed.
I knew I had called the right place.
The goats are scheduled to be sausaged (I love that spell check doesn't recognize the verb form of sausage) in a few weeks. Apparently you can't get same day butchering. Plus, it's a very busy season since it's right before Thanksgiving and Christmas. I guess lots of people want goat for Christmas. Just kidding. They butcher other things like pigs and cows.
One cool thing about this place is that it's a certified humane slaughter house. They make sure all animals are healthy and are very careful about how they treat the animals. They never deprive them of water and if they have to stay overnight, they require farmers to bring feed for them. Just a little something we do to make sure we're good stewards of the things God has given to us.
That said, I have to say that the goats are so obnoxious. They stand in their food trough, most recently pulling the food trough down, along with a fence plank. They escaped, of course. Walking up to the garden, of course. In the middle of co-op, of course. When three boys and a teacher were out on a listening walk, of course. I will never have goats again. They're ridiculously high maintenance.
The last time I was in their pen, to fix the broken plank, Luke stood on his hind legs and came down with his hooves on my shoulder. They're very pushy.
In church I heard the reading of how Christ is going to separate the sheep from the goats. The sheep get to go to heaven. You know where that leaves the goats, don't you?
If goats are your thing, God bless you. You're a better farmer than I.
