where I manage to talk about confederate flags and goats in the same post

A few weeks ago we were hanging out at my mom’s playing with the trash fire (shut up, I LOVE living in the country) when I noticed the mama goat acting weird. Cleo is a relatively new addition to the herd at my dad’s place. She’s a pygmy, and she came with a baby who was a few months old. Mama and baby (Cleo and Nellie) assimilated nicely, and Nelly quickly grew larger than her mom, since her dad was a full sized male. Nelly’s not that old, really-just a few months. Here’s a picture of her on her first day at the farm, back in November:


Anyway. A few weeks ago I mentioned to my mom that Cleo was acting weird. And maybe getting kind of fat! Could she be pregnant? No way, we decided. All the male goats at the farm are fixed, and she was nursing a new baby when she arrived, so she couldn’t have been hitting it with the males at her old farm, right?

Wrong.

Evidently, you CAN get pregnant while nursing. Meet Bunny, the newest addition to the herd at chez Robinson-Page. Note her itty-bitty stature; she is a true pygmy, which makes her Nelly’s half sister. She is, as you can see, smaller than my cat, and I must repress the urge to smuggle her out of the goat pen under my shirt every time I leave my mom’s house. Maybe tomorrow I can get a picture of her in a sling! Notice how I keep calling her “she” even though we don’t know the gender. That’s how sexist I am. Small things are always “she”. I blame this regression on living in a place where confederate flags fly in half our neighbors’ yards.

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