I neglected to tell you about the last birth on this farm for the year. Or maybe I should last planned birth. You never know when an accident might happen and I don’t want to anger whatever law/rule/god it is that presides over farm woopsies. Buster was the final planned birth on the farm. He’s the son of my favorite goat, Gypsy. He reminds me of his mom as a kid so much. He’ll follow us around and nibble at our legs then run off. He’s also got gorgeous curls and and really just wants to be pet.
It’s hard to tell how wee he is but his mom isn’t a giant either.
His favorite pass time really does seem to be jumping into what ever hay bin he can. Every chance he can get. If he sees edible hay, he is in the feeder. Stinker.

He’s a little bigger now than in the previous photos and his black fluff is being sunbleached a pretty chocolate brown. By this age, Gypsy had started to grey.
He’s gaining on his mom fast. He’ll be two months on Monday. Just look at his sweet face!
We do plan to keep him but because of his relation to all the angoras, he’ll have to have his manhood altered. Monday he gets separated until he’s old enough for the procedure. My inquisitve happy little boy will get all fixed up and then he can be a goober with siblings Misty and Bleu, once again.

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