Meet the critters #1
a goat named Possum
This post is part of an ongoing series, Meet the critters, that introduces our cast of animalian characters here at the farm.
It’s appropriate for Meet the critters numero uno to introduce Possum - the first farm animal we had before we technically even had a farm!
Possum was given to us as a newborn in February 2020 by Rachael’s boss, before we had even closed on the property that would become Magpie Hollow. I thought at the time, “Well, we have a damn goat livin with us so this deal better go through.”
Possum had an issue that’s common in goats where their leg tendons don’t fully extend, probably because they were cramped in the womb. His front legs were kind of knuckled under when we got him. This meant he had trouble standing, and thus, trouble nursing. That happened to one of our goats born last month - it’s not a catastrophic problem. We him brought the lil dude inside, bottle fed him for a couple of days while we massaged his legs into shape, and then put him back out in the barn with his momma. He’s fine now, nurses and runs around no problem.
But Possum was a misfit cast-off from Rachael’s boss’s place and so he came to live with us - inside the house, usually wearing a little doggie sweater and hopefully a diaper.
The pandemic hit shortly after the photo above was taken and many days I was home on Zoom calls for official work stuff with a little goat in a diaper jumping around in the background. Or occasionally in my lap drinking from a baby bottle. Good times. This is normal.
So Possum lived with us in the house, and we have a bunch of dogs in the house as well. When we finally got some pasture fence fixed up at Magpie Hollow and put Possum out there with members of his kind, i.e., sheep and goats, he was fairly confused. I think he was pretty sure he was a human, or maybe a dog, but he seemed to be pretty sure he wasn’t a goat.
He got the hang of it eventually.
His goat-call has always been kind of whiny and wimpy, but during his adolescent period it was especially peculiar. We nicknamed him Flibbity-Jibbit because that sounded like what he was saying. Then we shortened that to Flibby, which we still call him sometimes.
Our lil boy is all growed up now, and even managed to get a couple of the girls knocked up last season. We’re fairly sure the bucks born to Clarice and Alabama this January are his, since they don’t have horns, like their presumed Daddy.
Time to start payin child support, dude.