Sometimes, as much as I hate to do it, I have to sell an animal. Jack is the latest animal to leave the farm. He is the billy goat I’ve been using to breed some of my girls for the last three years. He’s funny and friendly, and I love that he is polled (no horns). I think if you want a herd of goats without horns, breeding is the way to do it rather than dehorning. Much less painful for everyone involved.
Unfortunately, Jack has had a couple of babies born with entropion eyes. This is very painful for the kids and expensive to keep taking care of. I’ve also had a couple of his kids die under unknown conditions. I just wonder if it isn’t a genetic defect. So, I had to say good-bye. I had a gentleman come and I loaded Jack up, and they were off.
When we got to there, he backed up to the loading chute at the sale barn.
The gentleman gets my information and asks if Jack has ever been with sheep. There gets to be more and more questions to answer about the animals that go through the sale barn as the government attempts to regulate the industry. This is in part an effort to end scrapies.
With the ticket written out, it was time for Jack to get off the truck.
He was not too happy about this, and wanted to turn around and get back on the truck to go home. This is usually when I start feeling horribly guilty and wondering why on earth I came.
Finally he turned and went into a holding pen.
Why? What did I do to deserve this?
Nothing like making me feel guilty. Eventually, it’s his turn to go through the ring.
Goodness, he looks awfully scruffy. His neck fur is pretty thin from fighting with Marley.
Then the bidding was done, and Jack was off. Sniff. Sniff.
Tomorrow, I’ll share the things that I love about the sale barn because it doesn’t always make me sad.