Around the time the Broncos’ season kicks off, Lucy, Canela, Snowflake and MaryAnn
are getting more fidgety, doing more head butting, bleating more often, rubbing up against unsuspecting guests and excessively wagging their tails. Their bodies are telling us, the goatherders, that they are ready to meet their man and to perpetuate life. They are ready to make babies.
Here's the problem, though: Male goats have an inherent disgustingness
to their dating preparation.
Who in their right mind would be attracted to a guy whose excess forehead skin dropped in cascading layers to the bridge of his nose, has a protruding 10-foot tall frontal bone, and a pheromonic odor reminiscent of ammonia, cat pee, sharp cheddar cheese and skunk spray? Oh, and by the way, these Don Juans attain that repulsive aura
by running their noses through waterfalls of urine when the girls take a whiz. And, even worse, they pee on THEIR OWN FACES. I can say, hands down, that I am thankful the males of our species don’t employ the same tactics — our sustainability as a human race would definitely be in question.
The buck that breeds our does was a young stud last year and hadn’t yet acquired his full aroma. Secretly, I was hopeful he would be an anomaly, the one male goat that outsmarted nature's calling for that notorious homemade perfume and decided to make a go of it, odor-free. Last year, he had a sweet, cherubic face. He even used to be pet-able.
Not so much anymore.
This year, I don't want to get anywhere near him for fear he'll nuzzle me, looking for affection, and I'll have to burn my clothing on the spot.
His forehead has started to lengthen upward, and there's a greasy residue coating the hair on his wrinkly nosed reverse face-lift. He's demanding and has a sleazy way of sticking out his upper lip and lifting it toward the sky when he smells a (goat) woman. If he were a human, he'd be the guy wearing a skin-tight shirt unbuttoned to lower chest level, exposing overflowing chest hair and multiple fake gold necklaces. He'd be dancing to disco music and pointing his upper lip skyward — not the type of company I prefer to keep.
We’ll give him a disco ball and let him do his job, but then it's off with him. All female goats are attracted to this type of seduction, so he’ll no doubt be successful on someone else's farm where he can continue to procreate and spread his wealth of stench.
As for me, I’ll be watching a Bronco game.
Lindsey is a city girl turned urban farm girl. She and her family are the proud stewards of a few milking goats, a lot of working chickens, an organic garden and a budding orchard. Just around the corner is the city. But she, and her farm, are hidden by the rocks. Follow her on Twitter (@goatcheeselady) and FaceBook (The Goat Cheese Lady) or visit her website (thegoatcheeselady.com). Email questions, comments, suggestions, etc to Lindsey at: firstname.lastname@example.org.