Heartbeats that Matter: Bringing Home Nigerian Dwarf Goats

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Spring March, sunshine beat down warming the car as I drove along. Thoughts raced through my heart. I am doing this for my sister, excitement and anticipation filled my body. I had visited the farm another time and seen Honey and Oakley at a younger age. They were only 8 weeks old now. Today’s post tells the stories of bringing home Nigerian Dwarf Goats to CG Heartbeats Farm.

Over the winter months, I prepared a space in the barn to add goats to the farm. Today, I was bringing them home. Not their permanent home, but rather an interim residence until we could get them out to my sister who lived a few states away. And however temporary, I would be adding goats to the homestead on this very day.

To learn more about the Nigerian Dwarfs at CG Heartbeats Farm click: Nigerian Dwarf Herd – A Country Girl’s Heart -Beats that Matter (dontclipmywings.com)

Nigerian Dwarf Goats

The First Goats Arrive

Fast forward 2 hours later, oh, my heart seeped happiness as I unloaded the little ones, placed hay and water in the pen for them. My husband did not say much as he looked at them. They are for my sister I told him. True enough, but with an awareness, I fully intended to add more for myself. Full disclosure: My husband enjoys the goats and we had previously spoken about adding them to the homestead.

Over the next couple weeks, I sat with them, resting. I knew I could not take away the struggle my sister was facing, but I could help her acquire the goats she had been looking for. At first the were not too sure about me, but in no time their curiosity overtook them. First an outstretched neck to sniff me, and then a nibble. Soon they were happy to sleep in my lap, jump on me, chew on my hair. I looked after these 2 teaching them to lead, trimming their hooves and getting them started on Parasite Formula from Land of Havilah Herbs.

Bringing Home Bonney, Knight, and Tucker

Courtney from De St Jean Farm had kindly given me the opportunity to visit in the fall of 2020. In the months following I often reached out to her with questions I came up with in my planning process. On her IG account she shared all her babies and mommas. I drooled, longed and saved my money. I wanted a few of those babies.

One evening I sat down and studied the for-sale page on Courtney’s website. I looked at pedigrees to find a bucks and does who did not share the same sire. Diversity was on my mind.

A long-standing theory of mine: no matter how good an animal looks on paper, it needs to physically present the qualities I desire, if I am going to reproduce it.

I planned a trip to visit Courtney again with a vision of what I wanted based on the info from the sale page. The goal at the time was to add quality registered Nigerian Dwarf goats to CG Heartbeats Farm and in so doing have my own milk to drink. One more way to produce my own food.

Dixie

Courtney posted picture of Dixie, sharing about the potential for her dam to be a 3* milker and the possibility of her sire being a star buck. It was unknown at the time which buck had sired her. Dixie sported a cute moon spot on her head.

I prayed, counted my pennies, and studied her pedigree. Oh! She appealed to me for her pedigree and the potential of her to be a 4* milker. In the end, only a week later, I put a deposit on her.

She came home with me the same day, Bonney, Tucker, and Knight did. She was still a bottle baby at the time. My heart melted every time I watched her wag her tail and drink her bottle. I started singing “My Dixie Darling” to her as she drank one afternoon. Thus, her name Dixie Darling, stuck.

Bringing Home Nigerian Dwarf Goats: Ariel

I learned to know Eva through our mutual chicken interest. When I found out she also raised Nigerian Dwarf goats, I determined to stay in touch with her. Poseidon, one of her bucks, had caught my eye on a visit to her farm.

Around the same time, I put a deposit on Dixie, I also put a deposit on a little doeling by Poseidon. I poured over her pedigree deciding on name. Ariel fits her sweet personality.

Sunny

In June, I once again was resting and perusing the Nigerian Dwarf goat pages on Facebook. Pictures often catch my attention. I then look for websites and pedigrees to help me determine if I want to pursue a purchase.

By this point in my goat shopping, I had a better understanding of they type of goats which were out there to choose from. My eye was developing and my desire for star genetics and champion lines increased. Certainly, I was happy with what I had, but my next purchase needed to be a step up, I decided.

In chatting with a woman whose had kids for sale, I was impressed with her buck. I inquired where he came from. On a hunt now, I checked out the website from the farm where her buck came from.

Here I found 2 bucks who impressed me greatly. I made a trip to visit Meadow Mist and enjoyed a great visit with Sandi, looking at her herd. A couple months later, I brought Sunny home.

Brian likes to go car racing. Turned out a farm I had found out about was located near his friends race shop. The next time he made a trip up there, I tagged along. We drove out to Meadow Mist and I met Sandi.

Bringing Sunny Home

Fast forward a couple months. Brian was going to racing for several days with his friend. For me to have a car to drive, I needed to take drop him off at the shop. Yep, the same shop near the Meadow Mist who had a buck kid I had my eye on. The back seat was packed full of Brian’s ‘stuff’ for his 5-day trip. No room for a dog kennel to transport a goat back home.

The Lord provides. I noticed a sign about a rummage sale in the town local to the car shop. Maybe there is a dog kennel for sale there, I thought. After leaving Brian at the shop and heading out to Meadow Mist I was disappointed to learn the rummage sale was actually a week later. However, I drove up on a garage sale. For $5 I left with a wire dog cage. It was not quite what I had envisioned. I would need to protect the back seat of Brian’s car from goat turds and the like, but it could work.

I drove home that day with a buck kid and an antique corn sheller from and estate sale I had stopped at also and laughed all the way home delighted with my new additions to CG Heartbeats Farm,

Bringing Home Nigerian Dwarf Goats: Peaches

Peaches deserves her own blog post to tell her entire story, but I will stick with the short version for this post on bringing home Nigerian Dwarf Goats. I had reached out to Sydney from ERSA farm as a part of conducting research on Sunny. Due to our previous connection, Sydney sent me a message when Peaches became available. She was a granddaughter of Sunny’s half sibling.

Thoughts continued to wander through my mind. Did I have the funds? Should I add another goat? I wanted to take a trip to spend time with family in August and did not want to add another goat until I returned.

But the next day, I put a deposit on her and intended to pick her up the end of August. However, Brian and I ended up making a date night the following weekend, driving to pick her up and I found myself with 2.5-week-old bottle baby.

Peaches delights me even now at 6 months old. She went on my trip with me to visit family because if you have a bottle baby you take them along. Well in my world I do. I mean after all if I can haul horses, I certainly can look after a baby goat. My nieces enjoyed her and on occasion I send them pictures of Peaches. She has become a fun way to connect with them.

Bringing Home Nigerian Dwarf Goats: Grace

Randomly checking out baby goats for sale when taking a moment to rest will get you (or rather me) in trouble. Do you see a pattern here as to how I ended up with the later members of my herd?

In this case, a picture popping up in my news feed on FB was the culprit. What? Eva had goats for sale? Ariel came from Eva’s Pine Knoll Farm. Oh, I liked the look of the one little doeling named Good to Go.

As I do, I investigated the pedigrees of both. After I considered their ages and decided I would likely not breed in the fall, but it might make a good companion for Peaches. I was pleased with the buck she was out of.

I struggled because I knew I needed to work on structures here on the farm. Winter was coming and housing is a work in progress here. I took money with me when I went to look at them. My mind weighed the pros and cons of taking another goat home and the fact if I bought this one. I NEEDED to stop buying goats for the time being.

I call her Grace and she came home with me. To my knowledge Brian did not know she was here for about a week. I say I needed grace for the fact I brought her home. She presents a little different look compared to the other goats here. I am looking forward to crossing her with my bucks to see what they will produce. Her sire’s dam is a champion and 2* milker. I trust she too will earn her milk star in time.

Looking Ahead

My goal for bringing home Nigerian Dwarf goats to CG Heartbeats Farm was to drink my own milk. I did not expect to enjoy them quite as much as I do. I am tossing around ideas for other ways to incorporate them in productive ways.

Over the last 8 months I have advanced my eye for what I want and want to breed for. Through conversations, reading, and farm visits my goals have shifted slightly from wanting my own milk to a desire to breed quality Nigerian Dwarf goats. The bottom line continues to be, I desire my own milk.

An additional desire marinates to produce milking lines recognized through ADGA programs. I am looking forward to milk testing does and participating in a few shows for 2022.

Read more about the Nigerian Dwarf goats at CG Heartbeats Farm on our page https://www.dontclipmywings.com/nigerian-dwarf-herd/

Nigerian Dwarf Goats

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March 18, 2020March 23, 2020

Beats that Matter ~ A Chick’s Deformity

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Less Than Perfect

Who longs to read a true story with a good ending instead of Coronavirus posts? If you like animal stories, this one is for you.

In the last couple blog posts, I shared the reasons for and against helping a chick hatch. This week I share a story about a Swedish Flower Hen chick that I did not help hatch, but still it presented a deformity.

It pipped in a bad spot and was positioned in the incubator where I did not even see it had pipped.

Over night it hatched on its own despite not pipping in the best spot.

I felt concern for what I found.

What you are looking at: An area of the abdomen that did not close properly allowing a part of the internal organs to protrude. In my mind, opening the chick up for infection.

Day 1

I know that it had a rough chance ahead of it, but I could not bring myself to cull the little thing.

That spot was squishy when I lightly touched it.

When I lightly pushed on that spot not only did it move, the chick passed a small amount of feces.

I figured I can always cull it later if it becomes as sick as I think it might. I went ahead and moved it to the brooder with the other chicks after it had dried in the incubator.

Day 2

Today the chick seemed to be holding its own. I needed to clean a small amount of poo from its vent that was hardened over it. This is called pasty butt, if you are new to caring for little chicks.

Day 3

Another day of cleaning pasty butt, but the little thing was lively enough, enthusiastic about eating and drinking.

Day 4

My heart ached when I seen all the poop stuck, not only over it’s vent but on its side. Looking at the picture below: All the area that is missing feathers was covered in poop.

Day 5

I felt horrified at the mess I found on day 5. How could this little chick go from a slight pasty 2 days ago to the nasty, gooey, stinky mess I found today? The feces caked all over its rear and the back part of its side.

It smelled bad, like when there is an infection. I debated ending its life right then. Knowing how little chicks peck at everything, I figured the other chicks may injest some of the nasty feces. The potential to make the whole group sick felt like a real possibility.

Yet, that soft heart of mine wanted to give it a chance.

Despite allowing moisture to soak into it, I am sure it hurt a little as I worked to remove the nasty, goopy, crud. The picture below shows how sunk in the chick was. I was thinking it might benefit from antibiotics.

That dark spot directly between the chick’s legs show what that deformity became.

Imagine my joy finding almost no pasty but on Day 6. The little chick wanted to eat and drink as always. It continued to hold its own over the next few days.

Week 1: The chick had not grown a bit during the first week. All the other chicks were 2 times it’s size.

Day 10

Around day 8 or 9 when I seen the protrusion dried up and fell off, I thought, ‘Amazing. Thank you Lord, this little thing may have a chance yet.’
M. Graber

Day 18

Week 2: Over the last week it is obvious the chick is growing, but is about 1/2 the size of the other chicks it hatched with.

The chick pictured at the top is about half the size of the others but it has doubled its mass in the last week. Progress it can live with.

These deformities happen occasionally no matter if a chick is helped during hatching process or not. They do seem to present themselves more often when a chick has been helped out, but certainly not every time.

Hatching chicks presents beauty and painful moments as anytime we care for and raise babies. I think we long for all to be perfect, but that is not the way this world operates.

I am excited I spent the extra time investing into the life of this little chick. Those times I spent a few extra minutes, cleaning the stuck on poop and making sure it had access to heat, food and water. While not a huge time or energy draw for me, it made a difference of life an death to that little chick.

Had I decided to let that chick go and not take the time to deal with its pasty butt, it would have died. That day the sticky poop was smeared all over the rear of the chick, not only would the chick died, the others might have picked up something. I took a risk on the little thing.

How can we take a few minutes out of our day to make a difference in the lives others today, this week, this month as our community feels fear and uncertainty that surrounds all we have heard about Covid-19 or the Coronavirus? Maybe we are being ask to take a risk? Maybe not.

I love the way this chick has pulled through and seems to be growing. It is a feisty thing that manages to wiggle in and get to the feed and water.

Christ and our Human Spiritual Deformities

I see a parallel between the life of this chick and my own. I need help to face my days more often than I don’t. My daily time with Christ provides me with the support I need to get through my struggles.

If you need peace that passes understanding, Christ sits on the throne and none of this caught him by surprise. This is where my daily peace comes from. Let me tell you it has taken me a few hours to get there some days.

NOTE: This page or post contains affiliate links. When you click and make a purchase I earn a portion of the money you spend at no additional cost to you. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Thank you for your support.

Read in this blog post about my go to incubator in 2019. I include tips I use with this incubator.

The Janoel 12 incubator with chicks I hatched from Pen # 7.

Click on either picture. Purchase your own.

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February 1, 2020February 1, 2020

Beats that Matter ~ Melodies

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Music touches the heart in a way all its own. It takes you down memory lane, strikes a forgotten emotion, creates a connection and has been known to drive me out of my chair to dance. How about you?

What does music have to do with homesteading?

Everything to my way of thinking. A local gathering with folks to sing and enjoy an evening was often the only entertainment early homesteaders had to enjoy. There was no TV’s, movies, or even electricity. No cell phones, or i pads and laptops distracting from what happened right there in real life.

I grew up hearing my Mom sing me to sleep with old family favorites and gospel songs.

My Dad had recorded her and her sister singing on his reel to reel. Again, old family favorites, gospel songs and songs my mother had written. My Mom, given a gift to sing with an ear to hear pretty melodies, sings only what lifts up the Lord these days.

The Hoosierettes (a trio of sisters)
My Mom is one of 3 sisters pictured here.
They were locally known in their teenage years.

In her grief with the passing of her sister, she stepped away from singing in public. But recently she decided to sing again. I know what all I have on my plate, and yet, what a great way to spend time with my mom. So, I said yes to singing at a local jam once again.

That meant an afternoon spent practicing and an evening gone. Oh, I tried not to think of the work I could get done in those hours. I like to get work done. But truly, is completing tasks beats that matter?

We started singing together close to 10 years ago, Sheila Mullet, my mother and I.

A year or two later, as we spent time practicing for a local Holy Walk, we decided Christmas songs were the best fit and easiest (for me) to sing.

Click on this picture if you are interested in purchasing this Christmas CD.

From that a Christmas album Once in A Manger, emerged in 2013. This song Once in A Manger alone held special memories and a warm spot in my heart for all the Christmas’s past hearing my aunts and uncles sing it. Three of those voices passed on and other aging, what is left remains in my memory these days. May I say, “beats that matter”?

Back to this past week. I did not feel the best this week, but the Lord has shown me how He will show up despite how I feel and use our singing to touch others.

I decided not worry about how I felt, but rather trusted He would give me the strength. That alone helped my mind to focus on enjoying my evening.

A variety of talent graced the local jam last night and several delicious dishes tastily satisfied my palette. As we finished up our 5^th song, I looked over at my Mom and smiled. #beatsthatmatter

I will keep my words short and share with you the beats that mattered to me this week. My husband kindly took the video I share with you below.

I wish for each reader special beats that matter in their life. It may or may not pertain to music. But moments that touch hearts, encourage, uplift, and show love to those surrounding you.

Don’t forget to use the hash tag #beatsthatmatter on pictures and posts. I will be watching for them to share on IG stories and other social media platforms.

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January 10, 2020January 14, 2020

Beats that Matter: Almost Frozen

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This post kicks off a new blog post segment telling stories from the homestead: Beats that Matter. Be sure to check out the end of this post for ways to share your #beatsthatmatter.

It was New Years Eve 2019. I not only fought a mental exhaustion, but a physical one, too. I utilize covered wire dog cages to safely house growing chickens in. I then, let them out for parts of a day as often as I safely can.

This evening the wind blew steady with gusts at 40 miles an hour and more. I felt concerned over the well being of one or two of the chicken groups. Knowing the temps were supposed to drop, with rain turning to snow, I had moved a couple pens in the day before. My mind seen the wet dirt they stood in, and imagined their feet in that condition when the cold came seeping in through the night. Would their feet freeze?

A little about me here, my adrenal glands struggle to produce enough cortisol in times of stress. What does that look like in daily living? It means there are times I simply need to rest. No screen time, no physical activity, drink water, and rest, sleep if I need to, but mostly rest. These times are brought on by different forms of stress. I often pay close attention to how I feel and learned when I am simply done. This particular evening, I was done. Horses were fed, I knew I had pushed enough. I came in hoping to go back outside to move a few pens, but as I rested, I felt that pushing more would not help me. This kind of exhaustion does not get better until I rest enough. I feel bad even as I type this out. I grew up believing I needed to care for animals first and myself second. Now days though, there are times, if I want to get better, I need the rest. It is a balance between what needs to be done now and what can wait.

New Years Day as I walked out toward the pens, my eyes went first to the pen I felt the most concern about. Yay, they all had heads up and alert. Although, one did look a little worse for wear. As my eyes traveled to another pen, I my heart dropped, and my first feeling was one of self-loathing. I had failed. That Swedish Flower Hen grow out looked frozen! It’s head protruded from the cage, an iclicle lined its face. I tapped it to see if the body was frozen. It gave the tiniest of movement and it did not have that hard feeling of kicking a block of wood or a frozen clump. There was still a softness to it. I felt a tiny bit of optimism, thinking I have to try. I opened the cage, reaching to the far back. I needed to work gently to pull the head back into the cage. It was stuck, until I tipped the beak up. I cradled this, maybe 1 and ½ pound, bird as I walked into the barn. I knew exactly what I was going to do next. I gently laid it on the top of a brooder cover. There was a heat lamp in there with heat radiating upward.

You might wonder why I did not take it in the house? Temps were well below 32 degrees outside. Inside the house it was closer to 75 or warmer. A body that cold can go into shock if warmed to quickly. Its little body was cold to the touch. There was snow frozen to its feathers. I considered taking a picture of it. I felt cold and desired to get to feeding. As I fed animals, I would walk by the almost frozen little thing, turning over to the other side. The side closest to the heat felt warm. The side away from the heat felt cold. This continued for around 1 hour. The snow melted off of it. This poor little thing could not maintain its body temperature. I pryied its eye open and it looked at me, blinking its inner eyelid. I worked its legs and wings moving them back and forth. Sometimes it would move its foot on its own. A good sign, I decided and while cold, it was defrosted. Hum, a new meaning to defrosting a chicken.

I shared this picture on Instagram Stories on December 31, 2019

Work outside completed, I evaluated the bird. I decided to take it in with me. Incapable of sitting up on its own I placed it in a heat bulb box. In this box it was propped up, but at this point it did not hold its head up at all.

After 30 to 60 minutes passed, I held it in front of the bathroom wall heater. I used that much like a blow dryer. The under feathers were wet and many of the outer feathers, too. I noticed there were not a whole of under feathers compared to an adult bird. Not to self here: younger birds may not have developed the needed insulation against adverse temperatures. Having raised hatches for 3 years now, I understand the need for heat until there feathers come in, but had not given thought to the fluffy under feathers probably like down feathers.

I blocked out the feelings of blame, working to warm the bird. Here my motherly instincts kicked in. I wrapped it in paper towels, laid it on my chest, and covered it up with my coat. I laid on the bed resting. Thinking about how chick and even adults will huddle together. Hoping the sound of a heart beat and warm body would bring comfort and a will to live.

As I held this little bird on my chest, I noticed movement of the eyelids. The eyelids did not open, but they moved. Now, I felt excited. My commitment to helping this little thing strengthened. I put it back into the box and in the warmest room in the house. Its body felt warmer, but had aways to go. I recall praying for healing for this Swedish Flower Hen.

How cute, but my heart was happy for other reasons.

Returning home, I found it like this. I quickly snapped a picture. My happiness overflowed. I felt confident it had a great chance to live. I interrupt the story here. I did not know if it was a hen or a rooster, for sure. It may end up providing food, but in the mean time I value life. I seen no reason to not attempt to help it, even if it was a rooster with no breeding future. This was not about money, or worth in a business sense. It was about the tender gift of life.

The next time I checked on it, an hour or two later, it had removed itself from the box. It was still hanging out in the bathroom. It did not stand on its own yet. I spent a few minutes supporting it on each side, helping it to stand. At last it could stand, a bit wobbly, but that was to be expected.

Standing up on its own, but refusing to eat or drink, yet.

Now what to do with it? I did not want it running around in my bathroom all night (and pooping all over). The temps were too cold to take it back outside yet. I did not want to shock it taking back out to the cold barn already. It really had not started eating and drinking yet. I decided to use the largest indoor brooder which is nothing more than a repurposed fish or reptile tank. It worked. The upstairs of the house was slightly cool, but I figured that would serve as a temperature transition to the barn. Busy days followed I ended up keeping it inside waiting for better weather and to make a decision where to keep it outside. It had been housed with a Silver Gray Dorking grow out. I had a concern that they may not get along after being separated for that length of time.

These are #beatsthatmatter to this country girl’s heart. I am excited to introduce this hash tag as a way to share the important moments in life. Use this hashtag and tag @countrygirlheartbeatsfarm on Facebook or Instagram either stories or post. These will be shared on CG Heartbeats Farm Facebook page and Instagram based on where you shared it.

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