A few months ago, we took a look at Craigslist's Farm and Garden Classifieds. We continue to digest the findings. It seems that some of the people selling livestock on the side speak of their wares in practical terms–meat, milk, eggs, breeding, market value. Others exude a warmth usually reserved for pets and small children. Take these two goat posts from last week.
“I'm regretfully posting this as they are the most unique and adorable pair I have ever seen,” writes a vendor in Palos Verdes, and you can practically hear the tears splashing off the keyboard. “Bam Bam, female. . .very angelic and innocent. . .has perky ears and looks more like a forest deer.” He or she continues, maybe dabbing away with a tissue, perhaps extending a free hand to run a few fingers through the gentle doe's soft neck hair: “Lucifer. . .extremely intelligent. . .very unique color pattern as if someone painted him. . .fixed and has beautiful horns.”
For some unspoken, but vaguely sad-seeming reason, Lucifer and Bam Bam are selling for $100 apiece.
At the other end of the spectrum comes a seller from Lake Los Angeles. He or she has a handful of pregnant $175 Boer goats set to–as it is put so delicately–“drop” between the months of October and December. They've borne twins and triplets in the past, so you may get a bonus babe if you pony up the cash. The same goat-herd has an eight-month-old Wether Boer male selling for $85. “He is ready to butcher or have as a pet,” the poster suggests helpfully. “Very friendly.”
We're wondering if buyers on Craigslist ever pick vendors on the basis of how they “sell” their beasts. Might a goat-lover see the potential peril awaiting the friendly eight-month-old in the second post and–before it becomes birria–swoop in to the rescue? Or might, alternatively, a great fan of cabrito envision a less cuddly fate for either Lucifer or Bam Bam–one involving a low, slow fire and a pile of blue corn tortillas?
All we know is that, in this day and age, we'd rather be a donkey than a goat. “We bought him as a companion for my gelding, but don't have that horse here,” writes the owner of a five-year-old donkey in Agua Dulce. “He is gentle and well mannered,” the owner adds, “He gets along with dogs. . .He needs a new friend.”
He needs a Shrek.