Uh, I probably should have inquired about milking lessons prior to this. I have read many homesteading books which outline how to milk a goat. I milked a goat at the animal shelter I worked at. A large goat. Every morning. Twenty years ago.
Yesterday we moved the milking station into the goat yard. We put sweet feed in the tray and enticed Katrina to get up on the wooden structure, stick her head through, and enjoy the treats. We didn’t touch her, just let her get used to the station. It became a fabulous game and playground the remainder of the day with goats jumping in high twirls off of the platform.
We locked the baby goat into a kennel in the igloo late last night. We cleaned a shiny metal bucket and the two quart canning jar we would use to store our delicious goat’s milk. Chocolate milk on my mind, I placed a funnel, topped with a sieve, topped with a coffee filter on top of the jar. We were ready!
This morning we got up with the sun. We distracted Loretta out of the goat yard. Enticed with some help (me trying in vain to lift her back end onto the stanchion) and sweet feed we got Katrina into place, latched the short leash to her collar, and set the bucket beneath her. It barely fit under her large belly. I never thought to bring out the bucket and see if it was too big! I could barely fit it under her, but I tried to grab a hold of her very swollen teats and milk. I tried to close my fingers around her, but she was too swollen, and I didn’t really have any idea what I was doing, I realized. She placed her foot in the bucket. A few very cold, frustrated minutes later, we let the baby out of the kennel to nurse.
Emergency early morning texts were sent to our farming friends. Today I need a milking lesson!