Introducing Moose Tracks:

He is Ebony's first buckling, the first Alpine buckling on the Green T, and Jenny's first single. As well as the first bottle baby born on the farm. 

Three days before Jenny and Honey were due (the 21st - Jenny kidded one day early) we got blood test results back for CAE, CL, and Johne's. All nasty and incurable diseases that can get really ugly if they enter your herd. Well, Jenny and Honey are CAE positive! What this basically means for the kids is that they can't nurse off their dam or they will also contract CAE. So we will be bottle raising all of Jenny's and Honey's kids. They will stay with their moms and be dam raised in pretty much every way other than the actual feeding.

This is the first time I have attended one of Jenny's births - she doesn't seem to like having hovering midwives and doulas around. She probably would have given us the slip this time as well, if dad had not come home bearing hay at the time he did. She was streaming goo, had a tight udder, lost appetite - in short, she was on the verge of pushing. A few hours earlier she had exhibited none of these signs. 

​One last photo of Moose:

By Suzanne Tyler
the Green T Goatherd 

We got pigs! These two porkers are the first animals on the Green T solely for meat, by which I mean that-- they're going to taste delicious.

The original plan was just to toss them into one of our currently unused temporary electric fences and let them do their thing and grow big and fat until fall and then send them to get processed. (Nope, we definitely aren't brave enough to do them ourselves-- to the butcher's they will go. Please don't label us as wimps for this minor weakness on our part.)

Of course, things did not go according to our ridiculously simple procedure. 

Upon arrival they exited stage left-- that is to say they skipped over the two strands of electric wire that would certainly keep them contained according to Storey's Guide to Raising Pigs and they departed into the vast woodland-- presumably to seek their fortunes. Had Suzanne not intercepted them near the stream in the woods attempting to climb a hill (pigs somehow have trouble with sloping terrain) their fortunes would perhaps have been met in the stomach of a great bear. Yes, we have bears and we had a recent report of a bear near the border of our own property; and yes-- if Little House is to be believed (which it is by the way) then bears do indeed enjoy a wholesome pig or two every now and then. 

Suzanne carried their mischievous tushes home and tucked them in for the night in what she refers to as ''the pig barn'' which, in reality, is the sorriest little wooden-pallet-and-tarp sort of shack you ever saw. The next day was such a horrendous comedy of errors and escapes and pig chasing that we all just want to forget as soon as possible and therefore I will not burden your mind with such horrors and instead leave it to your imagination. 

(Did I mention that the piglets have a very-- distinct aroma to them?)

The day after, those two decided to take up residency in the buck pasture-- for no discernible reason whatsoever. I mean, why? What is so enticing about the buck pasture? There is nothing any more appealing in the buck pasture than there is anywhere else on the farm-- unless they enjoy torturing Ebony and Binky with their presence that is. The bucks do feel a bit threatened by the confident little monsters. 

Anyway, they have not stepped out of the buck pasture since they made their decision, and no more trouble has been caused. They enjoy napping, tearing up the grass, stealing the goat feed and minerals, and following poor Binky around. They have taken up the eating of alfalfa hay along side the goats, and I can't help but wonder if they will grow rumens and start chewing their cud as well. Perhaps they think they are goats.  

By Jane Tyler