Frank: The First Buckling to Call Our Homestead Home

It’s hard to believe we’ve had Frank for two years now.
When we brought him and his sisters home, we were completely in love. They were adorable little Nigerian Dwarfs with big personalities packed into tiny bodies.

Of course, everyone had advice.

“That buck is going to smell.”

“He’s going to break out of every fence.”

“Just wait until rut season.”

You know… all the usual buck warnings.
And while some of those things can absolutely be true, Frank has always been a little different.
I know that probably sounds crazy to some goat owners, but it’s true.

When we first went to pick up him and his sisters, Frank wasn’t actually the buckling we had chosen. We had another little guy picked out, but the breeder called and explained that he wasn’t doing well after being disbudded. She suggested we take a look at the other bucklings instead.

So my daughter and I climbed into the buckling pen and sat there watching the chaos unfold.
Bucklings were jumping on everything.
Running circles around each other.

Bouncing off walls.
Doing all the things baby goats do.

And then there was Frank.
Sitting there quietly, staring at me with those beautiful blue eyes.
For some reason, I couldn’t stop looking at him. He walked over to me and I had this feeling deep in my gut that he was going to be a good boy.

So Frank came home with us.
Now, before all the experienced goat owners start laughing, yes… Frank eventually became bucky.

He’s a buck. That’s part of the job description.
He discovered girls.
He discovered that he was incredibly handsome.
And he discovered all the wonderful habits that make buck owners shake their heads.

But one thing Frank never became was aggressive.

He has always been respectful and easy to handle.

For a while, he even wore an apron to help prevent any surprise breeding adventures. Frank wasn’t exactly thrilled with the fashion statement, but he tolerated it.

As our herd grew, we quickly realized that if we were going to keep Frank—and probably add more bucks in the future—we needed a dedicated buck pen.

That decision ended up changing our homestead forever.

What started with one little blue-eyed buckling sitting quietly in a pen became the beginning of our buck herd.

Two years later, Frank is still here, still charming visitors, still proving that not every buck fits the stereotype.

Sure, he has his buck moments.

But every time I look at him, I remember that day in the buckling pen when something told me he was the one.

And for once, my gut was absolutely right.

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