"Udder"ly Ridiculous

People Often ask, "What's it like living on a farm?" First, I correct them that we are a small URBAN farm. There is no big red barn or tractor anywhere.  But then I answer, "living on a farm opens you to a myriad of experiences you would otherwise never even knew were possible."

For example, I have learned how to massage a turkeys swollen crop to help digest its food and keep it from fermenting.  This is a tricky process for one person and can result in putrid smelling turkey burps and vomit.

I have learned 10 different ways to kill a chicken, skin a rabbit, dispose of a dead gopher, and bury a goat.  I've kept chickens in large tupperware bins in my basement and had ducklings swim in my bathtub.

But this evenings task tops the list of absolutely weirdest farm tasks:  Shaving our dairy goats udders.   To those of you wondering, Yes, I did use my own razor; and those Mach 3 blades didn't work so well either.

As I sat lathering Beverly's teets up with my Burt's Beeswax shave cream, I furtively glanced around to make sure our neighbors weren't peering through their window curtains at me.  As I jogged back into the house to grab some scissors I contemplated the fact when most people drink milk, they probably never think about how udders are inherently hairy and that hair needs to get shaved off, or strained out before it makes it to your glass.

I was finally prompted to undertake this task because I was tired of fishing out goat hairs from my cereal bowl.  Make no mistake, we do strain our milk through some pretty spiffy filters before it goes in the fridge, but every once and a while one still gets through.

So...Beverly is a "brand new" goat and ready for some hair-free milking, and I am left with a ruined razor and a slightly abashed feeling I can't quite shake.