Saying Goodbye To Baby Goats

Tomorrow is the day I have been dreading since the birth of the first baby goat. It is the day that four of the baby goats will be taken to their new home. It will be a sad day for both of us, I am sure.

Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Raphael and Cyrus are the four that will be loaded into the pick-up truck and taken away. I am sure their mommies, Sugar and Spice, will cry for their babies. I know the baby goats will cry for their mothers as we diaper them and load them up. They have never been in a vehicle before so I am sure they will be sacred.

I will miss their soft fur and the way they come up to me, anxious to see me when I go into the barn or out into the pasture. I will miss their warm noses muzzling me and their wet tongues licking my hands. I will miss their dirty little paws jumping on my clean clothing covering it in mud. I will miss looking into their innocent little eyes and seeing them suckle milk from their mothers.

I wish we had enough land to keep them here, but alas, we do not. I wish they had been does so I could have justified keeping them through the winter.

I know they will be happy in their new home. There was lots of tall grass for them to eat and the pasture is certainly bigger than it is here.

Tomorrow will be a hard day, for both of us. However, it is a day that I know will come around once a year as long as we continue to breed goats. It is a day, that I hope, with each passing year will get easier.