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I still find it ironic. Four years ago, if you’d have told me by this time I’d be married and raising goats, I’d have laughed outright.

Eating my words never tasted so good.

Goats are awesome. Who knew?

Since starting out with a collection of lovely little Nigerians, we’ve tweaked our herd a bit, with the addition of (drum roll please)…

This little beauty!


Awkward picture, I know, but she’s in a gangly teenage phase, and still learning how to be photogenic. Plus I’m still getting used to the whole ear thing. Or lack thereof.

Yep, there you have it! Our newest addition is a gorgeous little LaMancha doe, courtesy of Happy Bleats Dairy Goats, a farm in central-south-ish Texas. Your longsuffering Bandit King graciously stopped off there on his way home from a business trip and brought back this little bundle of sweetness to his wife.

Juliet (aka Ruby Eyes, aka Little Cupcake Ears, aka Alien Goat) has settled in quite nicely with our Nigerians. Her mother, Summer (of whom Ruby is almost the spitting image), has a milking record of TWO GALLONS A DAY, and her father, Son of Thunder, comes from the Nun-Uddr-Dan line of LaManchas. Quality, quality.

Don’t worry, I’m still loyal to my faithful little Nigerian furbabies. I’ll be milking…let’s see…6 of them next year, plus Fifi and Giselle, the Pygmy girls.

But the fiendish new plan is to mix






and get some dynamite little Mini-Mancha milkers. Something medium-sized, with super-duper milking genetics and (hopefully) Ruby’s incredible personality is just the ticket for us. They’ll be easier to milk, logistically speaking, than the Nigerians, but not too big to rampage through the orchard (fingers and toes crossed).

I used to think LaManchas looked like creepy aliens, but not anymore. I’m sold on them, especially this little princess. She’s the nicest, quietest, most laid-back goat I’ve seen. My Pygmies are loud. The Nigerians can be noisy occasionally (mostly when I am any more than 4.7 seconds late to come out and start milking), but not too bad. But Ruby? She hardly makes a peep!

Yep. I’m just a helpless victim, struggling in the throes of goat addiction.

Heh heh heh.