The Dank Memes

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Billy Goat Stink is an awesome name for a punk band.
We had two bucks. Abel was a British Alpine (the goat in the photo might be a BA) and Hugo was an enormous and very friendly white Saanen. They were vasectomised (not wethered) teaser bucks and stunk up bad when put with the does - especially Hugo. Poor Hugo could never understand why nobody wanted to give him head scritches after that. It was terribly sad but the stink made me physically ill.
 
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We had two bucks. Abel was a British Alpine (the goat in the photo might be a BA) and Hugo was an enormous and very friendly white Saanen. They were vasectomised (not wethered) teaser bucks and stunk up bad when put with the does - especially Hugo. Poor Hugo could never understand why nobody wanted to give him head scritches after that. It was terribly sad but the stink made me physically ill.
My aunt and uncle raised goats for a while and they always named their males Bert and Ernie. Bert always kept his balls while Ernie always got his taken away.
 
My aunt and uncle raised goats for a while and they always named their males Bert and Ernie. Bert always kept his balls while Ernie always got his taken away.
Ours were somewhere in the middle. They were vasectomised so they got to keep their goolies, but we couldn't have them being fertile as the does were supposed to be surrogates for ova transplants from the angoras. The angora does were superovulated with hormone treatments to produce large numbers of eggs. It was all very high tech by 1983 standards.
 
Once upon a time my folks raised angora goats and we had loads of dairy does for surrogates. Goats need much higher spec fencing but they are a lot more personable than sheep. Billy goat stink is real, though - gods it's foul.

My parents had Boer-Stiff goats, also known as fainting goats. And yeah, the Billy's habit of showering itself in it's own urine as a form of goat cologne was most foul.
 
Who would have guessed we had such a strong I owned goats as a child connection here at the pub. :hmmm:
We had a couple of goats for a bit in the last few years. My wife and kids thought they'd be cute to have as pets. I knew they'd be more trouble than cute, but what does daddy know? They used my old pickup to play king of the mountain on, caving in the roof and head butting the driver's door in. Chewed off the wiper blades and bent the radio antenna. Their pellets and urine made hanging out in the back yard impossible. The final straw that finally got my wife to accept that it was time for them to go was when one of them started head butting the storm door on the back of the house to let us know he was hungry and busted out the glass. We'd just installed it a month or so before getting the goats...

But they were cute!
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This fascinates me, as I knew a funeral parlir worker who discussed how they buried the bodies without footwear, other than socks.

I always thought from her stories that was standard procedure, and now I wonder if she had a shoe fetish supported by the dead.
 
Who would have guessed we had such a strong I owned goats as a child connection here at the pub. :hmmm:

Well, how do you think we got indoctrinated into the Hobby?

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