In all the years of kidding, I can think of only two goats that got really mad after kidding. Maybe not mad, but extremely protective of their babies. Most my girls, if they saw a security problem, would snort really loud to their babies and then take off. The babies could follow if they wanted. Some of the girls even acted like they were saying, "Here, eat my baby so I can have time to run away." A few were brave enough to cautiously head butt the gentle family dog, ever so lightly. But, only two got madly protective.
One of the mad ones was an Angora, a wild Angora. We had bought a herd years ago who had badly been taken care of. We brought them in and hayed them and grained them and they thought they were in heaven. After a week of this lush treatment, I went out one day to grain the girls and they politely came up to the feeder to get their grain, which shows how wild they were to be so polite, until I heard something like a locomotive coming at me. A blur of white flew past me, butted the grain can out of my hand, knocking it high up in the air, grain going everywhere, and then the white locomotive wheeled around and charged back to clean up the grain off the ground.
One of those Angora does, getting grain probably for the first time, went wildly nuts over it and had to have it all costs, but being wild, the best thing she could come up with was to charge in, butt the can out of my hand, and then dive around to clean up the after spill. She couldnít wait for that luscious grain.
Since everybody was white, it took me a while to figure out which doe was doing it. Then, Lee and I caught the doe on one of her mad rushes, put a collar and a bell on her so we could hear her coming at grain time. Which was sort of frightening in itself to hear the thundering of little hooves, a bell swinging wildly and loudly, and you ready to save the bucket or the grain can at the last second. She also got the name of Bell.
That spring Bell was put in a kidding stall beside the other Angora girls and she had a gorgeous little girl. Without thinking I stepped into the stall to put iodine on the kidís belly button and dry her off with a towel. Bell had always been fearful of us, except with grain, so I never thought to notice her attitude.
She must have stood there one second and without warning took a lunge and hit me in the knees, knocking both knees backward, hitting the door behind them hard. I had no idea knees could go back that far. I thought both knees had been shattered and I was stuck in a stall with a mad horned goat. Without hesitation, I socked Bell in the nose.
She stopped in mid second charge at my attack and backed into the corner. I found my knees could still work, though I couldnít hunker down, and I cleaned the baby, put the iodine on, grabbed Bellís horns to hold her, and checked her teats to make sure the plugs were out so the baby could nurse. She was going to try and take me again about that, but I growled threats at her and she settled down. Then I cautiously backed out of the stall, keeping an eye on the fighting goat.
That was about nine years ago. This Jan. I had one first timer, a descendant of the Angoras mixed with Boer, kid two beautiful kids. Being young and a first timer, she did remarkably well. This sweet little doe, Aggie, was a lover, not a fighter. She loved for people to pet her in the pasture. Once again, without thinking, I stepped into the stall and set my sitting bucket down so I could sit on it and work on the kids (remember, I can no longer hunker down). By the time that bucket had touched the ground, that first timer wheeled and thumped that strange bucket.
Whoa! What a surprise! So, I gave up on the idea of using the sitting bucket and bent over to towel the babies and put iodine on the belly buttons. In the next instance, I thought I had not only lost my hand, but my whole arm. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and Aggie just about swallowed that right arm up. She never bit down, but it was a very firm warning.
I went ahead and cleaned the babies up and iodined them while Aggie was pretending to take whole bites out of my hands and arms, snorting the whole time. Those were her babies and no one was to touch them. When I made sure there were no milk plugs in her teats and one of the kids staggered to the back to get a nourishing drink, she acted like she was going to take the kidís head off, but would stop short and the vicious bite turned into a loving slurp with her tongue on her beloved kid. I quietly backed out of the stall and watched over the door to make sure she settled down and her kids would be all right. Aggie turned out to be a perfect mom.
Of course, for a day or two we had to be cautious about carrying buckets into her stall. There was just something about a bucket that her kids needed protection from.