Welcome to Hickory Knob. I'm Georgia Newkirk. I spent 22 years in the Army, all of it in supply, and retired in 1993 as a sergeant first class with Fort Campbell as my last post. I bought five acres in the hills outside Murfreesboro that same year and named the place for the big shagbark hickory on the rise behind the barn. In 1994 I brought home two pygmy goats "just to keep the brush down." You can see how that went.

These days I work the counter at a feed store near town, which is handy, because I'm my own best customer. The goats are all registered, all hornless, and all spoiled. They are not for sale, except the wethers listed below.

SARGE (buck, gray agouti). Father of every kid on this page. Thinks he runs the place. Smells like a buck from September to February, which if you know goats is all I need to say. Gentle as a lamb with children.

BISCUIT (doe, caramel). My first goat and the boss of the herd. Nobody eats until Biscuit eats. Mother of this year's first twins.

PEPPER (doe, black). Biscuit's lieutenant. Escape artist. If there is a gap in the fence, Pepper has already found it and is standing in my garden.

DUCHESS (doe, caramel). Acts like royalty, stands on the highest thing in the pasture so everyone can admire her. Gave me twin bucklings this year.

NUTMEG (doe, brown agouti). The quiet one. Best mother in the herd. Will eat out of your hand and then check your pockets.

HAZEL (doe, caramel). Two years old. Loves the school kids. Will untie your shoelaces while you talk.

TWINKIE (doe, gray). The old lady, nine years old, retired from kidding. She has a spot in the sun by the barn door and she has earned it.

GOMER, ROOSTER, BOOTS and WAYLON (wethers). The pet squad. Rooster yells at the sunrise, which is how he got his name. Waylon sings along when anybody plays the radio in the barn. Boots has white feet and no sense. Gomer is everybody's friend and the first one at the fence.

March 3, 5 a.m. The first kid of the year, Peanut, about twenty minutes old and on his feet for the first time, with Biscuit cleaning him up. It was 24 degrees out and I'd been in the barn since 2. His sister came along ten minutes later.

April 10. Smoky, three weeks old, asleep in the feed pan. That pan is for feed. Nobody told Smoky.

May 8. King of the Mountain. Smoky, Peanut and Licorice on the big cable spool, which the power company let me have for nothing. Goats have to climb. Give them something or they'll climb your car.

May 8. My sister Shelley Meads came over from Knoxville and took this one. That's the same three. Peanut is eating my hair. I am not posing; this is what happens every time you sit down in a pasture with kids in it.

September 18. Feeding time. You'd think I never fed them. I fed them that morning. Everybody's here, old and young, and every one of them is telling me about it.

Not tin cans. A goat will nibble the paper label off a can, which is where that story comes from, but she's after the glue, not the can. Here is what my goats get:

• Good hay, all they want, every day. This is most of their diet.
• Browse: leaves, brush, briars, honeysuckle, and the bark off any young tree you love.
• A little grain, measured, for the does in milk and the kids. Too much grain is a sick goat.
• Loose minerals and fresh clean water. They won't drink dirty water and I don't blame them.

A goat is not a lawn mower. Goats are browsers, not grazers. They'd rather eat a rosebush at eye level than grass at their feet. If you want your lawn mowed, buy a lawn mower. If you want your rosebushes eaten, buy a goat.

This year's four bucklings, Peanut, Tater, Tot and Jasper, have been wethered and are ready for good homes, $75 each or $140 for a pair. I'd much rather they go in pairs. A goat alone is a lonely goat, and a lonely goat is a loud goat. You'll need a fence they can't get through, over or under, and a dry shed. I'm keeping Smoky and Licorice, and Ginger is spoken for.

Inquiries by e-mail only, please: [email protected]. I'll want to know about your fence.

Every spring a few classes come out to see the kids. Here's what I tell them, so teachers can get a head start:

• A mother goat is a doe, a father is a buck, a baby is a kid, and a boy goat who's been fixed is a wether.
• A doe carries her kids about five months, around 150 days.
• Pygmy goats came originally from West Africa.
• They live ten to fifteen years if you take care of them.
• Goats have no top front teeth, just a hard pad, so they can't bite you very well. They can still steal your sandwich.
• Look at a goat's eyes. The pupils are rectangles.
• Goats are herd animals and hate being alone. See above.