Your brain works differently when you’re tired.

I was bit by a rat today.

Of course, that’s because I grabbed it, as it was scrambling around the no-hiding-places new room Jay’s started building for the goats.

And he didn’t just bite me. He took hold of my thumb and hung. on. Showing his little ½-inch teeth as he did his mini-bulldog best to make his teeth meet before he relaxed his jaw.

It’s the first time I’ve ever been bit by a rat, and I didn’t really react, because I was so surprised– at his tenacity as much as anything.

I switched my hold to his tail as soon as he let go, and he promptly began spinning like a dervish, trying to get back at my hand.

At that exact moment, I was speaking with a new acquaintance who was there with her 4- and 6-year-olds.

Not really sure where this came from, but I asked the mama, in the same polite tone I’d been using up to that point, “Would you mind stepping out? I think I’m going to end this critter, and I’m not sure you want to be here.”

She looked a bit startled but did as I asked.

My heebeegeebees were pretty much activated at this point and I just did the easiest thing. I whacked it against the plywood wall. Then after the satisfying ?thunk?, I carried the barely twitching rat (still hanging by its tail) out of the room where the mother and children were now standing (as I suppose is to be expected) looking a little confused.

I hadn’t really suggested anywhere for them to go. My bad.

The little boy started asking questions about the rat that didn’t quite compute in my sleep-shorted mind, and I just lifted the lid on an empty metal trash can and dropped the little carcass inside.

Amazing how thoroughly the metal lid ended that topic of conversation.

What I’m desperately curious about now, is how this looked to the mama.  Here I’m talking hay quality and milk-handling procedures one minute, then Oh excuse me while I end this rat.

I am so weird.

Sooo… We have Goats again.

Most of you probably already knew that, and I was going to save this post until we have picture capacity back, but I’m sick (aka sitting still), and they’ve been here a week, and I figure I can come back and stick pictures in later if I want {wink}.

We bought three papered Nigerian dwarf dairy goats; two does in milk, and a suitably stinky buck.

(We also bought a little buck/wether companion for the big dude, so that he doesn’t have to live alone.)

We’ve been milking twice a day for a bout a week now, and with a recently improved milking stand design it now appears (once I’m not sick anymore) I’ll be able to milk without help, and therefore more times in a day (the goal being to bring up milk-production levels).

Being registered, they have big fancy mulisyllable names, and they each have the name of the heard/breeder who registered them. Jay went online before we bought them to verify pedigrees, and we learned a bit about the registering process– including the need to come up with our own name if we are going to continue to register the offspring (which only makes sense, at this point).

Most variations on “Serendipity” are already taken, so we have different name that we came up with (together, this time; half his and half mine, which was a delight to my word-loving heart) that may eventually be reflected onto this site. We’ll see.

The milk, as is typical for the little breeds, is very rich. This has been instrumental in winning Elisha back over to goat milk.

After our goat (share) kidded this spring (after a couple months just on cow milk) Elisha decided he didn’t like it any more, despite it being as good as ever. He’s reject it just because it came from the jar rather than a jug.

We’re getting milk in small enough quantities just now to finish it off the same day we take it, and all the kids see “Winterdust” milk as a *huge* treat now.

“It’s like liquid ice cream!” Melody said, and I have to agree with her.  Pretty amazing stuff, and a nice shot of instant gratification for the work of milking and managing.