Insights from the secret life of a goat whisperer
Goat whisperer? Perhaps the genesis of this goat whisperer behaviour started all started when I found a sheep skull in the paddock at Pudding Hill camp, at Mt Somers. I’m not sure. But I do remember being on camp with some friends and we went for a walk in the farm area.
While on that walk I found a skull and kept it. I didn’t talk to it, but I did get attached to it. I loved it.
One of my friends, who, for now, shall remain nameless, thought other thoughts and said it was a very unusual choice, and I was not quite thinking right, etc, etc.
At that time we had no farm animals in my family
I wasn’t a goat whisperer until quite recently. I was living in Christchurch, and so there was no chance to whisper to any goats. But I did like to ride my bike over what was at the time, a cow and sheep grazing area, on the south side of Eastmans Wetland.
That was the stretch of Cashmere Road between Hoon Hay Valley Road, and Kennedy’s Bush Road. I used to enjoy calling out to the dairy cows along the roadside.
Well, I think they were milking cows, I didn’t know much about the difference between milking and dry stock back then.
We had no goats until after the year 2000!
It would be unusual to seek out the company of goats and whisper to them if you had no goats of your own, and didn’t work near, or visit them, I think.
Well, one day I went to Hanmer Springs with some people at work. My wife and I both went together and there was a goat there.
I thought it would be nice to say hello to this male goat.
He was behind a fence, what could go wrong…
Did I become a goat whisperer then?
Actually, he bit me!
