Requiem for Sweet Pea

Sweet Pea

19?? - July 30, 2008

My beloved Sweet Pea passed away during the night and was gone by yesterday morning. I honestly don’t know what was wrong with her - something internal. She had an appointment at the vets, but went down before we could get her there. We buried her with appropriate ceremony out past the second Mesquite bush on the left, here on the ranch. She is survived by her daughter, Cinnamon, her human Summer Foovay, and various other friends in more than one species.

When I originally bought Sweet Pea and her daughter, Cinnamon, everyone assumed it was because of Cinnamon. Silly girl is the ditzy blond of goat-dom, and just knows that everyone is her friend. But as time went on, Sweet Pea became “my favorite goat”.

She was savvy. When the water spigot made rattlesnake noises, she pushed her way between it and Cinnamon, and shoved Cinnamon to the other side of the pen. When dogs loomed on her horizon she took immediate and aggressive action. When allowed to choose between grazing free or being fed, she always headed for the pastures. She took her job as head goat seriously, never wandering far from Cinnamon or the other goats when we had some goat company and always keeping a close eye on how they were doing - even though she found “those boy goats” very annoying. She quickly took the boys, twice her size, in hand (hoof? horn?) and taught them who was boss goat.

She loved to be near me, and if I was outside and she was not confined, could be counted on to be within sight. She really only wandered for two reasons. She thought she still belonged on the big ranch next door. And she had to keep an eye on that ditz, Cinnamon - who believes the whole world is her home. Left to herself, I suspect she would have slept on the back porch as long as she could see me through the window.

One of our favorite Kodak moments (when no one had a video camera, of course) was the day the goats followed me over here - before we moved here - and strolled onto the porch. Of course, the dogs went crazy and went after them. Around and around the house they went - but it would be one round with the dogs chasing the goats, and then a round with the goats chasing the dogs!

Sweet Pea and Harry had an ongoing relationship that I can only explain as that one between the little girl and the boy who pulls her pigtails. Every time she saw him, she went after him. Every time he saw her, he’d run right at her. The day she was so ill, her last day, Harry would not come into the house at all. I had moved her up into the yard so I could keep an eye on her. He lay in the shade beneath the back porch, not close enough to bother her, but close enough to be able to see her. He refused to leave that spot, even when it got quite hot in the afternoon, and his buddy Klyde retreated inside. I think he knew, and was just keeping her company.

We buried her yesterday morning, and then I had to go to town - my biweekly food buying trip. We simply were not able to put it off. I did the bare minimum, and that did not include much in the way of Twitter, Plurk, email, or blogs. Don’t expect much above the minimum from me for the rest of the week, please. I don’t have anything with a hard deadline that I can think of, but if there is something you must have, remind me.

And if you’d like to do a little something in memory of an old goat - hug your critters today and go by and donate some free kibbles here, and here. Or if you know of a goat rescue who could use a few bucks, donate to them or to your favorite charity.

Sweet Pea probably arrived at the bridge, ran crazy for a few minutes, then settled down to graze until I arrive.

Blessedbe

Summer Fey Foovay

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The most beautiful goat in the world…

Well, of course, I think it is my Cinnamon:

But Life in the Fast Lane shares a story about The Most Beautiful Goat competition in Saudi Arabia. These people really love their goats - not that I blame them.

Although the article says it isn’t likely, I know that both of my goats know their names, and do indeed come running when called. They also clearly know a few other words like “breakfast”, “dinner time”, and without a doubt “Grape” and “treat” (you can tell what their favorite treat is now, eh?). They love to play and will often invite me to play with them by making a move similar to a dogs “play bow”. Cinnamon loves to be scratched and will come up and lean on you to get you to scratch her. Pea is a bit more stand offish, as suits the head goat I suppose, but she does like to have the top of her butt scratched. If you didn’t know that, you could surely misread her hints though. Both will lead on a lead rope and Sweet Pea in particular will simply follow me if I am outside and stand at the door until I come back out if I go inside. Cinnamon, in fact, has been known to come knock on the door with a hoof at dinner time.

Cinnamon and Sweet Pea are Nigerian Dwarf Goats and about half the size of standard goats. Not as small as pygmy’s though.

It seems to me that the Nigerian are quite “normal” looking goats. The Damascene goats in the story have quite an unusual head shape. Common around here are LaMancha goats, who have tiny curled ears that look at a glance like they have no ears at all.

Goats really do make good pets, better than you would think by reading the article at Life in the Fast Lane, but then I’m sure it varies by what breed you are working with, and how much human contact they had as babies. Both of mine were always pets. Even though they used to have 1000 acres to run on with me on the other ranch, they generally stayed close by the house. Although now and then they did like to come visit the neighbors!

Well, I’m just babbling on about my spoiled brats. I guess I could do something useful like find some articles to add to Animal Nerd

Summer Fey Foovay

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Green roofs - and brown and white and black goats!

Now this gave me a smile today - The Ultimate Use for a Green Roof. I wish the blogger had linked to the article or website these photos of goats on the roof are from! I think my goats would have just too much fun if I’d let them on the roof - assuming my little fatties could get their big round hinnies up there. And turf on the roof just might be the thing to keep the roofs on our barns and storage sheds in all this New Mexico wind! Talk about noisy upstairs neighbors though….

Summer Fey Foovay

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Goat survives 50 foot plunge!

This is my rotten little goat - Cinnamon. She is a Nigerian Dwarf Goat, and so is probably a lot shorter, but almost as heavy, as the goat in the story today. Given what I know about my onery little beast, I wish I could have watched as the deputies in Hilton Head chased this goat all over the bridge.

Just how determined these critters can be to do what THEY want to do, which is whatever you probably DON’T want them to do was probably quite obvious to the poor rescuers when this goat lept off the Charles Fraser bridge. Fortunately, she wasn’t injured by the fall. One of the firemen had to be rescued from the mud though!

We finally got a little rain this week, so there are a few plants starting to show green out there in my favorite little patch of desert. My goat, Sweet Pea (Cinnamon’s mother) was running laps around their pen yesterday. This is her way of saying “You can either stake me out to graze on that fresh green stuff, or I can find my own way out of this pen…”. I better get off this computer and go do some proper ranch work today!

Blessedbe

Summer

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