Say hello to some of my four-footed animals (all hoofed, in this batch). The two older equines weren’t in this particular shoot because I fear to brush away their winter fur until the weather picks up for certain-sure >.>

Honey, Mother of All

This is our first goat, an old battleaxe we named Honey. Her horns were removed long before we got her. She is just about the perfect goat- smart, good milker, excellent mother. No idea of her breed (if she even has one) but she is sweet and is the most adventuresome of the three we currently have. She is pregnant at the moment.

Toot, the Sneaker

Daughter of Honey (first goat born on the property) and a sneaker royale. Yet she still turns her nose up at perfectly good weeds her mother would scarf down in a second. She is also the first goat on the property to have triplets. She is also pregnant in this picture.

One of Toot's last-year triplets.


The other two of the Triplets of Toot

Dribble, She Who Bellows At Nothing

Loudest. Fucking. Goat. EVER. Honey’s second-year child, who’s twin sister we got rid of because she was a horrible mother (tried to kill her own baby. Yeeech.) She’s- you guessed it- pregnant.

Baby, named by your's truly. Known alias- Skunkboy.

A mule, a male, and- not pregnant, OMG. Not the smartest mule on the place and has an alarming tendency to try to sit on you while trimming his feet, but would stomp a dog flat if it tried to bite you. Him and his sister once sandwiched me into a corner to protect me from neighborhood dog barking and wouldn’t let me out until they stopped.

Katie, also known as Princess.

The smart one. Older sister of Baby and has a good heart, if a tad bit pain in the ass. Likes her ears scratched with knuckles and tries to drool when you do. She got the name of Princess by being one when we try to train her.

The two other four-footed hoof beasts (not pictured) are Shordie, horse mother of the two mules, and Boliver William Shagnasty the Third (don’t look at me, I didn’t name him), a short fat mule who can (and has) remove sparkplugs and drink coffee from a mug. He’s also the resident escape artist. We went from rope tying our gates shut to chain and latches because of him, and we can’t leave him tied up for long without him trying to pull it apart with his teeth.

So, these are my babies (though some are older than me). Some will be having babies, given another month and a half or so. More pictures will follow when more hoofed ones are born 🙂