Buttermilk Farm

When we were in New Zealand we determined that it would be a good thing for Lena to go and see some sheep. After all, what better place than NZ to see sheep, right? Sheep outnumber people there 10:1 (special thanks to the hard working people in the NZ government statistics department for clearing that up... don't they have something better to do??)

Lena had previously only had one encounter with livestock when she was no more than a few months old at the Del Mar Fair. Nevertheless, she thoroughly enjoyed herself, and I am sure that if she had have known how to say "Oh wow! WOW!" back then she would have.





So, we decided the time was ripe once more to give the livestock another go. And it was also a nice excuse for Lena to spend some time with her Dad before he left to go back to Provo.

I found a place in Auckland called Buttermilk Farm with pretty good reviews, so we decided to head out there. It was rather an odd place to have a petting and butterfly farm (it was literally right next to the airport) but it seemed to be doing pretty well, and even though it was close to closing time by the time we got there, there were still plenty of people around.

At the Fair we had seen pregnant goats and sheep, and if memory serves me correctly, there was a cow there too. At Buttermilk Farm we saw an assortment of birds (ducks, chickens, little baby chicks that had just hatched... oh and some nasty geese), pigs, rabbits, guinea pigs, 4 week old kittens, goats, brand new kids, sheep (obviously), and some strange looking thing apparently called a Chinese chicken or something which had adopted a normal chick that got abandoned by its mother... kind of weird, but cool too I guess.

As we hoped, Lena had a blast. Lots of pointing and "Oh Wow!"'s and lots of pretending to be braver than she really was when it came to petting some of the bigger animals.



She loved chasing the ducks and chickens around the barn, and couldn't understand why they didn't seem to want to give her a hug when she ran at them. The farmer on duty was pretty relaxed about everything, and let us pull out some of the smaller animals like rabbits from their pens so Lena could play with them (I am pretty sure that would never happen in the States). However, Lena got pretty bored with the rabbits after about 10 seconds... not enough fun. Which was just as well for the poor rabbit we were holding who looked as though he was about to have a coronary.



One of the coolest things about the farm was that 7 days before we got there 4 baby kids were born. Lena loved them, I think probably because they were about the right size to be fun but she was still big enough to feel safe around them. They were supposed to be in a pen that they couldn't get out of, but one of them had a rather adventurous streak and, being so small, had figured out a way to slip out of the pen through the gaps. He would just not stay put, and was determined to see everything and explore the world. Needless to say, he and Lena got on very well.








But, the highlight of the trip, at least for me, Evan, and Grandpa P, was the attack of the geese. Sadly, I didn't manage to get footage of it or even a picture, but it was hilarious! While we were walking away from the main area of the farm to look at some sheep (and some dwarf cows, I think) we caught the interest of two geese. I wouldn't trust a goose as far as I could kick it, much less two geese that looked as though they hadn't had they fair share of people chasing for the day. They trailed behind us at a reasonable distance, but always just close enough to remind us that they were there.



Meanwhile, Evan was busy recounting to me stories of being chased by geese in his childhood, and Lena was wandering off to find more sheep. I guess in that time she either discovered the geese and thought that they were just big ducks that wouldn't run away from her if she tried to hug them, or the geese had been maliciously following us in the hopes that the smallest in our number would break from the pack so they could assert their dominance (I think it was the latter). Before I could do anything I had turned around to see Lena standing there with her hand outstretched whilst two fully-grown geese flapped and ran at her and pecked at her chest, knocking her over before she even had time to react or cry. I had a heart stopping moment where I imagined my daughter being mauled to death by fowl at a petting farm, which quickly turned comical as I thought of the irony and also as I realized that, despite the fact that she had been knocked over and was certainly not enjoying the goose hugs, she was just fine, not hurt, and that the geese were very afraid of my rather much larger and scarier husband. The geese and Lena both learned their lessons, and the rest of us cried fowl play (ha ha!) and had a good long laugh Lena's expense.