This was written by one of our 11 year old girls.
I have always wanted to have goats. I would beg my mom constantly. Finally, one day my mom came and said that some friends of ours had some free Nigerian dwarf goats. Their mom had rejected them and they had to get bottle fed. My mom warned me that I would have to go out every day, twice a day, to feed the goats. Fortunately, by this age, the goats only had to be fed twice a day.
I was so excited. I told her I would do it. I remember the day they came. We had already gotten supplies and fixed up the green house so they could stay in there. I remember tacking the goat in my arms and bottle feeding it for the first time. The goats were small but they were nimble. They could climb over practically anything.
Finally though, the excitement wore off. I hated getting up every morning and every night to feed the goats. Wednesday’s were the worst. We came back later from church and around 9:00 we had to bring them their milk. I can’t tell you how grateful I was when they started to eat grass. They ran with the sheep and they ate the briars.