Tag Archives: animal husbandry in mexico

Goat Drama

In the past month, we’ve had a bit of goat drama in the soap opera that is our life. 

First, there was Lil’ Blackie. He picked up a mesquite thorn in his hoof, which was removed promptly, however maybe a piece got embedded deeper because over the next few days he went from limping to listless to unable to walk. We started an antibiotic treatment which seemed to help some of the swelling, but after a week, he was just getting worse. After a night of little goat crying and what seemed to be lockjaw paralysis, and talking to Azul the vet, we decided the best course of action was to end his misery.

Stinky Chivo has been the leading actor in our drama life lately. With his ladies in heat, he’s become mighty aggressive. On several occasions, my husband has had to wrestle him into submission to tie him and come in smelling to high heaven. 

Stinky then decided to take the show on the road. The other day, when he was supposed to be grazing, he took offense at the shoveling actions of some workers on the other road. They tried to scare him off by throwing buckets of water on his head. That just enraged him more. My son and one of the workers manhandled the beast and retied the raging goat. As soon as he saw he couldn’t butt heads anymore, he went back to grazing peacefully.

Usually, when our macho goat gets this aggressive, we trade or sell him. This year we’ve run into some difficulties since the normal animal market in Puruandiro has been suspended. Furthermore, the young heir apparent, the next oldest macho in the herd, is still too young to assume the throne. So we’ll just have to restrict Stinky’s movement until the estrus cycle is over. 

We’ve also been inundated with coyotes in La Yacata. They are always present, but their nightly howls have become direwolf in nature. It freaks Cocoa out (and me too if I’m honest). This morning, my husband reported that a coyote had nearly made off with one of our babies. Coyotes being wiley and all, Cocoa didn’t even notice it until it had already lunged. Fortunately, the goat-napping was averted although the little one lost her tail, but it served to remind us that the goat herder needs to keep a close eye on his charges. 

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Not Taking The Blame

An actual picture of the elusive chicken feather guy rounding up his animals in the morning.

The other night, the horse guy, as opposed to the chicken feather guy, let his animals out to graze. Up and down the road they went, eating whatever tickled their fancy.

The next morning, the guy whose wife and kid planted some corn on their lot down the road came charging up to the house, beer in hand at 9 am to yell at me. He didn’t get too close. All three dogs got riled up and wouldn’t let him within 100 feet of me. Mr. Aggressive wanted to know if we had goats. We do. I didn’t deny it. He said that the goats ate all his corn. I said they didn’t. He should check with the guy who has sheep right next to his lot. 

So Mr. Aggressive went down to that house and banged on the door. The Borrega guy only comes before and after work so I shouted down that he needed to try at 5 pm or 8 am. You could see the steam rolling out of Mr. Aggressive’s ears. 

The corn field in question.

Mr. Aggressive went to town for some barbed wire and another beer and went at it. He hammered and drank and drank and hammered for 20 minutes or so. Curious, I decided to mosey on down after he’d left. Sure enough, he put up some sort of wire thing–not exactly a fence. He also nailed up a sign which I couldn’t figure out. Something about putas. If I couldn’t figure out the sign, what makes him think the livestock will stop and read it before helping themselves to young, tender corn shoots?

So the next morning, Mr. Aggressive lay in wait for Borrega guy who denied any and all knowledge of any corn eating. Borrega guy also pointed out that the poop right there in front of the lot wasn’t sheep or goat poop, which resemble little rabbit pellets. 

Not sheep, not goat, not even horse.

I’m not sure that the cow patty convinced Mr. Aggressive of anything. Neither the Borrega guy or we have cows. Of course, we could have brought one from another location to divert suspicion I suppose. Last night, the chicken feather guy let his animals out to graze again.

I have to quit rolling my eyes so hard. I’ve nearly given myself eye strain.

eye roll

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Have you read all of our previous animal adventures?

wwzzcover

 

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