If you’ve watched my goats at all you know that they love to eat. All the time. That means that they also poop all the time. (Goat people call these pellets “nanny berries.”) The goats even poop while eating. Yesterday I had planned to take a fecal sample to the vet to have it checked for worms. It’s important to keep a goat’s intestinal tract parasite-free. Some people worm their goats on a regular basis. Since different drugs kill different species, they switch between products. It’s rather hit-or-miss but effective enough on an annual basis.
Pip and Caper arrived here already de-wormed. Their paddock is virgin goat territory. So, instead of hitting them with a wormer, I’ll pay for a fecal, find out exactly what is (or isn’t) inside of them, and only treat for that.
At least, that was the plan. Yesterday I pulled on my boots and my coat and grabbed a plastic bag. It was cold, but I didn’t bother with gloves. After all, how long would I have to wait? The boys are pooping machines.
They were very happy to see me. They were out of hay, and let me know it. I gave them a flake. They ate. Then they asked me for treats. Then they butted heads to show me what big, rambunctious boys they are. They didn’t poop. It started to snow. I waited. They chewed their cuds. They had a drink of water. I waited. They put their front legs on my coat and asked me to play. My hands got cold. The wind blew the snow around. I waited. No poop.
Forty minutes later, I gave up and went inside to warm up. Caper was sorry to see me leave.
I’ll try again tomorrow. If you see me standing in the stall, you’ll know what I’m waiting for.