Meet the goats! Part 12

This is Toaster and Flapjack. They are Bambi's only live kids. She, just like her mother, Clover, didn't take easily to motherhood. She seemed really confused about what to do. These were the last two kids born in 2016, so we were waiting for her to deliver and were able to save her kids.

Toaster is the guy on the left, named because of his lovely toasty color. Flapjack got his name because he had a really hard time getting started in life and was mostly flat on his side until we got him warmed up and nursing. He also has a folded ear, which I would have corrected had I noticed, but I was too busy trying to keep him alive to do cosmetic procedures at the time.

This happens sometimes with floppy-eared goats, and can be corrected by putting a toilet paper tube in the ear and fastening with a rubber band. The tendons will stretch out in a few days and they look as good as new. The folded ear doesn't cause him any trouble, and I think it's an endearing look, so I don't mind not having fixed it, and he doesn't seem to mind either. I don't think the other goats make fun of him, but you never know what they do when my back is turned.

These are two of the sweetest goats we've ever had, and have the same gentle disposition as their mother. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but kids tend to take on personality traits of their mothers, whether they are raised by their mothers or not. Nature versus nurture? I think nature wins this one. They are gentle and loving and can be shy around people they don't know, but will cuddle with me all day if I let them.

In looking through the pictures to find good ones of these two, I realized that I have lots of cute ones of Toaster, but not many of Flapjack. Maybe he is self-conscious about his ear after all.

These guys are the same age as the goats from the last several weeks of Meet the goats, but they are still much smaller than everybody else. Their mother is a dainty little thing compared to the rest of my girls, and I think that's why they are so tiny. I actually brought them home from the brush herd for about eight months after George lost his leg because we noticed that it was the younger, smaller goats who tend to break their legs. The older goats can just roll with the punches, and don't tend to get themselves in as much trouble.

Goats are supposed to reach their adult size by the time they're four years old, so these two will probably get a little bigger, but I think they will always be small. That's okay. I'm small too. They might be the only ones who will never accidentally push me off a cliff because they're trying to rub their heads against me. That happens more often than I would like!

So that's it for the brush herd! I hope you enjoyed meeting my lovely boys!