Like Whitesnake….

Here we go again.  That is one of my favorite songs.  And much like the song, here we go again.  I ventured south to numerous Texas sales.  Saw some good goats, saw some really good goats and saw several that didn’t look good but will be good.  I like those kind.  Of course, those common ones that don’t look good, yet, always cost $1,500 to $3,000 in Texas.  Okay.  I guess that is the cost of doing business.  But, I like what I brought home.  I may not like them next March, but I like them today.  They have a chance.  And sometimes, all you really want is a chance.  

     I left Duke at home to help sync recips.  I always like having him with me to set goats up and to eat at favorite spots. I traded him for Brandon the Bruce.   Not so good a trade at setting little goats up, but unparalled at the eating part and discussing late 80s/early 90s music.  Great trip.  

      I did have a humerous moment at the Lone Star Elite sale.  Jason Spence was auctioneering and a goat was crowding $5k.  I was bidding but bowed out.  Another bidder was sitting straight across the building.  He was waivering on the next bid, and the ringman went RUNNING right up to him to try to entice him to bid again.  Spence went  “Easy on him. That guy used to be my jockey.”  It was Belmont Stakes day.  And I guess you have to find the humour in the fact that John Henkhaus probably NEVER was a jockey for anybody.  No offense meant toward Henkhaus, but I had visions of Schneberger wearing a crappy little straw hat with his FR overalls while riding a burro.  Or a bear riding a tricycle.  One in the same.  No matter “The Situation”, I like humour.  

       Triple crown….YES!  And no, I didn’t get to watch it.  I was in between Vernon and Altus.  My fault for not watching it live.  Ask Brandon the Bruce.  I may, might be, probably is a dumb $hit.  The whole time zone deal always causes me problems.  

      And I really don’t like dealing with does.  I like babies, bucks, wethers and doe kdis.  But I really don’t like the beasts that are required to raise said wethers, bucks, doe kids, etc.  They rub, wear, crap on and beat the heck out of anything they can.  Fence…Not anymore.  A full feeder–yeah, it was full, right up until they crapped in the feed tray.  Good looking kid…What?  Not anymore, he now walks with a limp.  I really like raising good goats.  But I DESPISE dealing with does.  

And much like Whitesnake, weve heard this tune before.  CRANK IT!   Have a good one, and a better tomorrow.