Goat life

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
 
Greg and I have a way of working together. We seem to know what to do and how to do it without the need for words.

When we measure boards, Greg always holds the smart end. I don’t get along well with fractions. Greg understands. When we cut boards with the circular saw, I am at the short end of the board, holding it off the back of the truck's tail gate. I understand that I need to apply just a bit of pressure to widen the gap as Greg cuts. This way the saw doesn’t bind. We work as a team.

So, we headed out to the goat yard with the truck's bed full of lumber and tools. We were ready to build the goat house addition.

I have learned over the ears that goats are curious creatures. All four gathered around our work site. They inspected our tools. They nibbled on the lumber, and they continuously managed to make their way into our way. Standing under the ladder seemed to be a favorite goat construction site place. It became a goat game. One at a time, they would walk under the ladder bridge, pause, step out, circle around, and walk under the ladder again. I held the ladder extra tight as Greg climbed it to build the addition's roof supports.

Greg’s design involved attaching the pre-constructed roof to the existing goat shed and supporting it with three four by fours on its outside edge. The goats were intrigued with these three posts. Every time we had a post properly positioned and leveled, a goat was sure to push it out of square. Such a jolly game this was. I finally was able to hold the goats at bay while Greg quickly screwed temporary goat guards in place. These temporary boards weren’t actually guards, but were boards that Greg attached to the posts to secure them until we could cut and properly affix the girts, or side boards.

By the time the sun had passed over the hill, we were still far from finished with goat house construction, but we were quite tuckered out. Two of the goats agreed with us and had settled down to simply enjoy the evening. The other two were still quite energetic and up to the task of hindering construction. Greg and I exchanged tired glances, and with a knowing shake of our heads, we began to pack up our tools. It was quitting time. A project that we should have competed in a day, with goat assistance, was a definitely a two-day undertaking.

We bid our work crew good evening and retired to the cabin. I readied dinner, but by the time dinner was done, and Greg had washed the dishes, we realized we were curious what our construction crew might be doing. We headed back out to the goat yard and through the gate. They followed us as we walked around their house settled down on the goat walk. Two jumped up beside us. Two nuzzled our feet. 

They all said they could hardly wait to get back to work tomorrow and finish up working on the addition. We scratched between their ears and had to agree. We were looking forward to another day of goat-assisted construction. It's a goat's life after all.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.