09-01-2015, 12:33 PM
Do you have problems with your goats (especially your youngsters) charging ahead of you on the trail? Phil and I were having this trouble when we took our three yearlings out last week. They would get behind when they stopped to browse, and then one of them would snort or bolt when he thought we were too far ahead, and all three would panic and stampede. Usually they stampeded right past me and sometimes past Phil as well. I wouldn't mind so much except that goats aren't content to walk nicely ahead of people on the trail. They constantly want to stop and browse, and then our pleasant hike feels more like the stop-and-go of rush hour traffic--a constant accordion motion of bunching up, then spreading out. Our goats got used to getting ahead of us as babies because there's not much anyone can do to stop them squirting through every little gap. Well now they're much too big to squeeze through gaps without shoving, and their horns have reached a span too wide to allow them to pass safely at speed on a narrow trail. It's high time we trained them to stay in back!
Most of the time it's easy--I only have to keep the lead goat from passing me, and he keeps the others from passing him. Finn is our lead goat and he likes to walk behind Phil, so it took some persistence to train him not to pass me. Usually if I feel a goat sneaking up too close, I'll take my hat off and drop it over his face as he goes by. He stops dead in his tracks when he discovers he can't see where he's going. After that, waving the hat in front of his face is usually enough to make him get back. Once Finn figured out he couldn't pass close to me, he tried being "clever" by going way around me in a wide spot. I picked up a tree branch and cured that problem within half a mile.
Keeping just one goat back is not too difficult. Our biggest problem was when all three would bolt past at once. They didn't do it often, but I wasn't sure what to do about it when it did. Three big, horned goats stampeding past on a narrow trail is dangerous, and it was dangerous even when they bunched up behind me instead of blowing past. I knew I had a problem when I realized I'd gotten into the habit of standing tip-toe to avoid getting my heels trod on whenever I heard hoofbeats. After about the third stampede, a small bell began to ring in the back of my mind. Didn't we have problems with Cuzco stampeding past us on the trail years ago? How did we deal with it? And then I remembered! Scare the pants off him!
I began to pay attention to when the hoofbeats faded behind me, and to the swell of noise as they rushed to catch up. When the frenzied pounding drew near I whirled around, threw my hands in the air and yelled "WOW!" at the goats. All three of them froze stiff, their eyes bugged out in terror, and pebbles flew as they skidded into each other. I did this only a few times more before we reached the trailhead, and each stampede was slower and more timid than the one before. By the end, the goats were cautiously trotting to catch up, then slowing down at a safe distance. I don't want my goats to fear me, but by golly they better fear running up on my tail and stepping on my feet!
Most of the time it's easy--I only have to keep the lead goat from passing me, and he keeps the others from passing him. Finn is our lead goat and he likes to walk behind Phil, so it took some persistence to train him not to pass me. Usually if I feel a goat sneaking up too close, I'll take my hat off and drop it over his face as he goes by. He stops dead in his tracks when he discovers he can't see where he's going. After that, waving the hat in front of his face is usually enough to make him get back. Once Finn figured out he couldn't pass close to me, he tried being "clever" by going way around me in a wide spot. I picked up a tree branch and cured that problem within half a mile.
Keeping just one goat back is not too difficult. Our biggest problem was when all three would bolt past at once. They didn't do it often, but I wasn't sure what to do about it when it did. Three big, horned goats stampeding past on a narrow trail is dangerous, and it was dangerous even when they bunched up behind me instead of blowing past. I knew I had a problem when I realized I'd gotten into the habit of standing tip-toe to avoid getting my heels trod on whenever I heard hoofbeats. After about the third stampede, a small bell began to ring in the back of my mind. Didn't we have problems with Cuzco stampeding past us on the trail years ago? How did we deal with it? And then I remembered! Scare the pants off him!
I began to pay attention to when the hoofbeats faded behind me, and to the swell of noise as they rushed to catch up. When the frenzied pounding drew near I whirled around, threw my hands in the air and yelled "WOW!" at the goats. All three of them froze stiff, their eyes bugged out in terror, and pebbles flew as they skidded into each other. I did this only a few times more before we reached the trailhead, and each stampede was slower and more timid than the one before. By the end, the goats were cautiously trotting to catch up, then slowing down at a safe distance. I don't want my goats to fear me, but by golly they better fear running up on my tail and stepping on my feet!