BREAKING NEWS FROM THE FARM: I’m apparently looking for a goat OB-GYN now.
Yep. This is adulthood. Somewhere between buying a chainsaw and arguing over the price of gravel, I found myself wondering, “Anybody know a good obstetrician… for a goat?”
Just brought home these two lovely ladies, and I gotta say, they remind me of my time living in Portland. These women have beards too. Society really does come full circle.
The brown one may have a little bun… or maybe a tin can… in the oven. Goat jokes are still a work in progress.
We still don’t have names because apparently every brilliant idea I have gets vetoed.
Roxanne? Nope. Because every feeding would turn into me screaming, “Rooooxanne… you don’t have to eat the red hay…” while embarrassing myself in front of the neighbors.
Crosby? Shot down. Even though Sid is the GOAT when it comes to hockey. It was right there!
James Brown for the brown one? Also denied. She’s a baaaaddddd mutha… shut your mouth. But I digress.
Now I’m wondering if I can add goats to the family health insurance plan. Parenthood apparently crosses species lines. I’d like to get them checked out, especially the brown one, just to make sure everybody’s healthy. My fiancée is a vet tech, so she knows a thing or two, but it’s always nice to have a veterinarian give them the official seal of approval.
So, Jefferson County friends…
Who’s your favorite large-animal or goat vet? Drop their name in the comments.
And if you’ve got hilarious goat names, I’m taking suggestions. At this point I’m convinced they’ll end up with names like “Mortgage” and “Poor Financial Decisions.”
Everyone keeps telling me, “This is how it starts.”
I think they’re right.
Tag someone who’s just one impulse purchase away from owning a farm. 🐐😂
If this made you laugh, snort, or feel better about your own decisions, consider supporting the nonsense — every dollar becomes hay, and the animals say thank you. Loudly. At 5 a.m.
