Occasionally my husband and I help our son and daughter-in-law with their livestock, and I’ve come to realize just how much work it is.
The other morning was one of those days.
It was cold, -10, and I was acclimating to the crowing, clucking, and quacking normally heard in a barn. Suddenly I was face to face with a pair of squinty eyes gazing at me over the top of the pen. Isn’t that sweet, I thought, Buttercup, the goat, wanted my attention.
But no, she desired the small scoop of chicken feed my son occasionally gives her, and she wanted it where she could reach it with her long tongue. Chicken feed doesn’t strike me as tasty, but every other critter in this barn seems to think so. Buttercup chomped down her treat, then relaxed and finished the hay I’d given her.
I’d never personally known a goat until Dick and I started helping with the chores of feeding chickens, goats, and ducks. I took a closer look at Buttercup. She had an attractive tan coat that looked soft to the touch. In fact, she almost looked cuddly. I reached down and patted the top of her head. She seemed to like it.
Just at that moment, the four other goats in an adjoining pen began scuffling. It wasn’t the first time today. They seemed quite rambunctious, more than usual. I figured they were getting cabin fever like the rest of us.
Now my attention turned to the ducks. The three of them live in the same pen as Buttercup, my new goat friend, and they all get along. Last summer I watched the ducks at their summer digs where they have a nice little pond. It’s not huge, but it’s muddy and when filled with rainfall, idyllic for a duck. They loved it. Ducks must be easy-going, they seemed happy here too.
Last, but not least, I turned my attention to the chickens and added a scoop or two of chicken feed to the feeder. Unlike the goats, they didn’t seem overly excited. Their food was always accessible. Chickens enjoy flapping wings, pecking in the straw, and squawking. Seems a rather irresponsible lifestyle, but they do provide fresh eggs and scads of fertilizer, and I should know. I grew up on a farm and spent all summer running around barefoot. Needless to say, I’m not a fan of chicken —-. At the end of the day, I have to give kudos to anyone who owns and takes good care of livestock. It’s a never-ending but rewarding job.
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