Always trust your gut instinct!

You know those days when your gut tells you one thing but you don't listen even though you know you should? Friday was one of those days.

Rosie was due to kid on Thursday. No signs of kidding. Friday morning I check her and I think I might see some goo but it could just be the poor light. P checked her all day long every hour or two. Nothing to note except that she stayed in the barn all day. Before he left for work he said she was just standing there looking at him. That was at 2:45. I usually get home from work at 4:30. Well, since it was a nice day out and the boss was out of town, I was able to leave at 3:15 so I decided I'd go to the gym and get home around my usual time.

I get home all sweaty and in my gym clothes still because I figured I'd wash my car and then shower, so I go inside and drop my stuff off, get a couple of rags for washing the car, put them on my trunk on my way to the barn to check on things. I open the door and see Rosie standing there with a baby stuck halfway out!!! I drop my phone and my sunglasses into a flower pot by the door (it took me 24 hours to remember that's where my sunglasses ended up) and go grab gloves out of the birthing kit (thank goodness I have one of those so I know where to go instead of frantically running around looking for gloves, towels, etc.) and head into the stall. The kid is out up to it's shoulders with one leg sticking straight out. It's been stuck long enough that all the goo is off of it and it's breathing and bleating. So there I am, in completely the wrong clothes, trying to figure out what the heck I am going to do. Can't push it back in to reposition it because it won't be able to breathe. So I put my hand in to feel around. Can't feel the leg at all. I decided the first thing to try is pulling. I grab onto that slippery little leg and pull. And pull. I dig my feet in and pull with both arms on that poor little leg. I'm worried that I will dislocate it but that's better than not getting the baby out. Rosie is screaming in pain and is pushing as I'm pulling. Finally we make progress and the kid comes out - a buckling. Rosie immediately starts cleaning him. Seems no worse for the wear but I really should have listened to that inner voice that told me to go straight home and hit the gymn later. Phew!

Ok, time to breathe for a minute. I go get a chair and put it in the stall because I know she has another baby in there. She is just too huge for there to be a single, especially since this buckling was average size. Sis-in-law walks over to keep me company for a bit as I'm waiting. I see Rosie start doing some pushing. She is shaking she is straining so far. But after 20 minutes there is still no baby. I'm starting to worry that the second one is in a bad position. I get online and go to my favorite goat page on Facebook and post a message. Within seconds people are giving me advice, but before I have a chance to do anything, Rosie lays down and I see the bubble.

Let me explain the bubble. In my experience, a goat's water doesn't break prior to birth (unlike humans) so the first thing visible is a bubble. Inside that bubble you want to see a nose/mouth (usually the tongue is sticking out for some reason) resting on two hooves. That means proper presentation. Anything else is bad news and means going in to reposition - thankfully I haven't had to do that before.

So there's the bubble which means the baby will be out soon. But what does Rosie do? She stands up!!! I forgot that she kids standing up. Which means if I'm not there, the kid will fall 3 feet to the ground! She isn't the brightest goat in the barn. Anyhow, that kid comes out fairly easily, though I did pull gently just to help her a bit since she was pretty exhausted. Another buckling. I was really hoping for a doeling since Rosie is getting older and I want one of her girls to raise as a milker. Oh well.

I check out the kids and get them standing and notice that one of them has really floppy legs. His knee joints bend both ways. One leg is much worse than the other and he can't stand on it without it flopping forwards. So I get onto my goat forum again and ask what to do. Selenium they all say (Western Wa is deficient in selenium which can cause fertility problems, difficulty kidding and muscle weakness). I had given Rosie and injection in December AND in May so I was surprised her kid was deficient. But it won't hurt to try because I don't have any other options. I inject the newborn kid with selenium which, let me tell, you isn't easy since they are so squirmy.

The next day he is standing and walking but one leg is still funky. They say to give him a second dose. The following day, he seems to be all better! Both legs are working properly and he's playing with his brother.

Kidding season is now over and I just get to enjoy their antics. Next up (starting in late August) is breeding season!

Babies....finally!

After driving P crazy by giving him daily udder updates, Daisy finally had her kids. She was due on Thursday and had them the following Monday. Average gestation is 150 days (which was Thursday) but they can go 5 days either direction. So she kidded on day 154. The only sign she was getting close was that on Thursday her ligaments were loose and Sunday her udder was starting to firm up. On Monday morning when I checked her at 6:30am her ligaments were super loose and her udder was very firm. No normal signs of labor. Her vulva looked normal and not swollen. She had zero discharge. She wasn't pacing, pawing at straw, talking more than usual, arching her back. Nothing. So I figured it would be later in the day or towards the evening. P checked her at 8:30am or so when he was milking. No change except he said she was a little standoffish. Checked her at 9am. No change. I asked him to take a look around 11:40am before he left for a hair cut and I got a frantic phone call "Call the hair dresser and reschedule my appointment! Daisy had her babies!" Dang it!!!!! We missed it!

Here they are just minutes old - 2 doelings. They were still all wet and covered with goo when he found them so they had obviously just been born. But they were up and on their feet and nursing in record time. The kids and P had pretty much already named them by the time I got home. The white one is Sunny and the brown one is Windy. Because they were born on a very windy sunny day.

Personally I think they are just about the cutest babies ever born on our mini-farm. The mom is a Saanen/Boer cross and the dad is an Oberhasli who happens to be naturally polled (hornless). So they seem to have gotten all sorts of pretty coloring from the multiple breeds and I think they may be polled as well because at 3 days old I still don't feel any horn buds growing on their heads.

At 2 days old their mom already has them out in the field while she grazes. She is such a great mom! The dogs were eyeing the kids through the fence and she was making this strange thumping sound in her throat, warning the dogs to keep away.

There was much discussion about who these goats belong to. Daisy belongs to G and he was under the impression that he would get her babies if they were girls and he would give one to D since we had to sell her runty buck a few months ago. Well then E chimed in that she wanted a goat (even though she hasn't wanted one up until now). So we parents made an executive decision that D and E get the babies, with the understanding that a) the goats can be sold at any time if it is determined that they are not good milkers or they fail to thrive or have an attitude problem and b) they must spend time with their goat and take care of it or we will reconsider ownership.

As I was out in the field yesterday playing with the kids, and even later that night as I was filling water buckets in the barn, I was thinking about how much I love my life, even though it is a lot of work. When I was a kid I went over to my neighbors place every day after school for years to help her walk her herd of Nubian goats. I watched babies being born and I learned how to milk, came home with gallon jars of goat milk that no one in the house would drink except me and I generally fell in love with goats (I was probably the only 16 year old at Mariner High School that had her own goat), though at the time I thought the neighbor's horse was my best friend. I always envisioned that I would have a farm with a horse when I grew up and maybe some goats. It's funny how the goats made a bigger impression on my life. I wish Sue were still alive so that I could show her how much she influenced my life.

~T

Spring = new life

It is definitely spring on our little mini-farm. The sheep welcomed the first day of March by having twin ram lambs. My thought as I left for work that morning "Hmm. March 1. The start of lambing season!" I got home and the ewe had done just that.

We have been busy cleaning up the yard, mowing, weeding, tilling the garden, etc. This year we are rather late on the garden since my parents have both been ill and I haven't had time to devote to it. It's been plowed a couple times and probably needs one more pass before it's really ready for planting. I might just have to buy seedlings this year - family comes before garden.

Right now I am waiting for kids. Goat kids. Poor Daisy looks like she might burst:

She was due yesterday. I've been checking her ligaments daily (not a gross job - just feel next to the tailbone to see if there are ligaments there or not - if not it means she will kid soon, in theory) and they definitely loosened yesterday but nothing new to report today. I swear I felt kids moving in her belly the other day. Or she just has a very energetic digestive system. But she does have an udder that has developed so she MUST be pregnant, right? Though does have been known to develop what is known as a precocious udder (an udder for no good reason).

Rosie looks ginormous. Even what is called (in the goat world) her hoo-ha looks like she is preggo. But she fooled me last year so I just don't know.
This year:

Last year:

See how her belly is a different shape this year than last? I'm hoping that's because she has kids growing in there. I really think I felt kids moving around. The only thing I have to compare it to though is what it felt like when I was pregnant and could feel movement. But goats have a totally different digestive system than humans so maybe I'm just feeling digestion? My instinct tells me I'm feeling kids but I don't want to be disappointed so my head is trying to talk me out of it. She isn't due until the end of May so I have quite a while to wait.

I HATE WAITING!

Goats usually kid around the time they are fed. My does get free range pasture all day but around dusk I give them some hay, alfalfa pellets and sunflower seeds. So I am hoping they kid around then. I would love it if they would not interfere with the very rare date night that Paul and I get tonight, so I'm hoping Daisy waits until tomorrow. Though on the down side, that means she could kid tomorrow while Paul is at work I am home alone with all 3 human kids. But a date on a Friday night is so rare that I am willing to make that sacrifice.

~T



Dog blog

When we adopted a German Short Hair Pointer/Chocolate Lab cross, I researched the cross, and not the individual breeds. Turns out one of the characteristics of Pointers is they are boisterous and have a long "puppy" phase. You know when people say their Labs calm down after a couple years?  Well, apparently he did not get that Lab trait.  He is like Tigger. When I get home he barks at me because he is so excited to see me (they are very devoted) but he bounces next to me which results in him barking in my ear, which is not a great way to come home from work. I can tell him to go get his ball and he often will go in search of a toy - if he can't find one he has been known to bring bucket lids, 4 foot long sticks, or any other weird thing he determines is a toy. He is so boisterous that we can't allow him to walk around the house because his tail knocks into things. Have I mentioned his tail? I have never seen a dog that can be so destructive with just a tail. And he wags it with so much energy that he can give me a bruise.

For the last couple of months I have been talking about how much I HATE this dog. It all came to a head last weekend when he knocked G down for the 3rd time in as many days. I admit it - I yelled, I cursed, I vented (sorry P) and threatened to give the damn dog away.

Once I calmed down I realized something needed to be done. One of my pet peeves is dogs without manners, and Murphy has more bad manner moments than good ones. So I decided that I DO need to make an attempt to like him and make him into a more well behaved dog. Have you heard the phrase "a good dog is a tired dog?" Well that is my goal. Obviously I can't do anything during the day when I'm at work so he is left to his own devices. Apparently Pointers need vigorous exercise every day (or they get bored and destructive which is obvious by all the holes he has dug in the yard and the pots, gloves, toys, etc.  he has chewed up), more than just being left outside with the other dog to play all day. Now that it is light when I get home I am going to try and let him in the field (with the animals put away of course because Pointers AND Labs are hunting dogs) and throw his ball until he is so tired he gives up.

Speaking of exercise - another characteristic of a Pointer is limitless energy. So maybe my aforementioned plan won't work, but at least it's worth a try. And after 30 minutes of ball chasing and me giving him treats when he brought me the ball and dropped it, he was getting pretty consistent. But then he got tired of ball chasing (maybe it was because I kept throwing it in the ginormous puddles in the field and he was tired of being wet?) and took off, nose to the ground, hunting for something. And then he and Opal (the dog that I LOVE) ran and ran and ran around the field.

I do hope that one of these days I love both dogs equally. But for now I will settle for loving one and liking the other. I've got a lot a work ahead of me.

~T

Faced with mortality

I know it seems like I deal with death often on the mini-farm. And as sad as it is, the death of some animals is something I've gotten used to, even though it makes me sad. But when faced with the mortality of a parent, I'm struggling.

Last night as I sat on the couch snuggling with my son while reading one of the Narnia books out loud, I receive a call from my dad. Now something you need to understand about my relationship with my dad....it is basically a relationship via my mom. We talk when we see each other but not usually about anything very deep. The closest we got was when I lived with them for a month during my divorce and he made me feel safe. I call him on his birthday and Father's Day, but he NEVER calls me. I can only remember one other time he called me and that was once to discuss birthday or xmas presents for my mom. Oh wait, I think he was returning my call to him.

Anyhow, I tell G to hang on a second and answer with a feeling of dread, thinking "something happened to mom." The reason this was my first thought is that my siblings and I had a lot of discussion over xmas about mom's health because her back has been really hurting her and we are worried. Much to my shock, my dad was calling to give me news about himself. All I could hear at first was the dreaded word - CANCER. Breathe. Try not to start bawling. Listen to my dad calmly explaining the details: tonsil cancer, caught early, 85% success rate, surgery in 7-10 days to take out tonsil and affected lymph nodes, PET scan shows it has not spread, radiation for 6 weeks.

I manage to keep it together and ask him a few questions around the painful lump in my throat. I tell him I love him and we hang up. Then the tears burn their way down my face, releasing the pressure from that painful lump in my throat. G asks me from the couch what is wrong. He can't see me but he heard my half of the conversation. I didn't want to have to talk to an 8 year old about something like this, but I can't keep it from him. I did tell him that I needed a minute so I could tell him without crying. And amazingly, once I started telling him, the urge to sob began to pass, for the moment. The act of assuring him everything was going to be ok, helped me feel it was going to be ok, but I will admit to shedding more tears once he was in bed and I was alone. Tears not so much of fear that this cancer was going to kill my daddy, but tears for the fact that my parents are aging and our roles will soon be reversing. Mourning that brief time we had where we were all ok and I didn't need their emotional support (other than loving me for who I am) and they didn't need mine.

Today I am looking at my role as the eldest of 4 children. I feel I have the responsibility to keep all of us focused on the positive rather than what "could" happen. Many years of therapy taught me to focus on NOW and not live in the FUTURE. But I also have to learn how to deal with the hard emotional stuff without turning into a blubbering idiot. I cry when I am emotional - happy, sad, confused, frustrated, relieved - it all manifests as tears. I see someone else crying and it makes me cry. And unfortunately, I am not pretty when I cry. I get that horrible blotchy, swollen face. P can always tell when I've been crying even when I try to hide it.

I know billions of people have been in my shoes over the course of history, but this is my first time wearing these shoes.  I may not know the right way to walk in them, but walk in them I will, even if it makes me look ugly.

~T

Experiences to learn from

Well the weak goat kid died cuddled up on the couch with me on Thursday night. I got home that evening and he had been out in the barn for the day, had eaten well from the bottle a couple of times. But when I went out he was all fluffed up and standing all alone not moving. I tried to get him to take a bottle but he couldn't latch on. I learned that if they are cold they often have trouble latching. So I brought him into the house and got him warmed up. Fed him a little from a syringe but he just didn't want to swallow it. I had to go out for a bit so I gave him to sis-in-law to warm up. Got home and he was floppy. Couldn't stand up and was super lethargic. Gave him some nutri-drench, which is a concentrated electrolyte, and a b-complex shot. About 10 minutes later he perked up a bit. Was able to stand on his own but still wouldn't take a bottle. Kept syringe feeding him but shortly after he became floppy and lethargic again. His mouth was cold inside, which is another thing I learned - you can tell if they are cold by sticking a finger in their mouth. So I heated up some flax seed bags in the microwave and put them under him and around him while I had him in a blanket on my lap. His temp went up and his mouth was warm, but he was still super floppy. I rubbed him vigorously but still got no real response. I had tried all my tricks and the only thing left was to try tube feeding, which I had never done before. I was thinking of waiting until P got home but it seemed urgent. So I watched a couple of youtube videos and went for it. Last year I bought the tube online from the goat supply place, so at least I had the tools. But I needed a large syringe which would fit on the end of the tube. After 3 trips out to the barn in the freezing cold, I found one that would work. The instructions said to give the kid 1-2 oz. I opted for 1 oz since he was so small and that was the only syringe I had. To tube feed a kid, you measure from where you think their stomach is to their mouth and make a mark on the tube. Then you insert it into the side of their mouth and feed it down into their stomach. It seems like a really horrible, difficult thing to do, but it was actually really easy. It slipped in without any problems or fighting. Once it is in place, you have to listen at the end of the tube to make sure you hear stomach sounds and not breathing sounds. If there are breathing sounds, it is in the lungs so you have to remove and reinsert it. The first time I wasn't sure. Didn't hear gurggling but didn't hear breathing. To be on the safe side, I removed and reinserted it. Heard definite gurrgling. I gave him the syringe full of milk. When removing the tube, it is important to crimp it so any remaining liquid doesn't drain into the lungs on the way out.

Ok, job done. Goat kid was not coughing, spluttering, choking or foaming at the mouth and didn't die, so I knew I'd done it correctly. I hoped to see some improvement in 20 minutes, but there was not change. I took him back to the couch and waited. He breathing became more labored over the course of a couple hours. He had a couple of seizures where he went stiff and trashed about. I kept my hand on his side because his breaths were coming fewer and farther between. I kept waiting for the next breath until at last I waited and the next breath never came. So at midnight, after hours of trying, he went to goat heaven.

I cried a little. I tried so hard to take care of him, but he was just too weak to begin with. And without his mom caring for him, he just didn't have a good enough start. I learned a lot from the experience though. I am sad when I lose an animal but I am trying to remember that I care for them the best that I can and that I learn something in the process. Without the losses I've had this year, I wouldn't have learned the things that kept two of my other goats from dying. So with every death, I hope to save many more lives and be the best goat keeper that I can.

~T

Just call me vet, goat midwife, crazy or anything else that fits

Yes I know, it has been ages since the last post. But between getting married in September and sick goats and work I have been swamped.

So here's what has been happening:
October - got back from honeymoon in Kauai (I wish I'd just stayed there) found one of my does, Jill, was looking skinny and stopped producing milk. Started upping her grain ration and treated her for coccidiosis (a parasite they get from grass) since she had diarrhea. After a while she would only stand fluffed up in the corner of the stall and went off her feed. Called the vet out who tube fed her, gave her antibiotics and b-complex injections and gave her a 25% chance of recovery. Knowing what I know now, I would have wormed the goat too. She died a couple weeks later.

November -  Bought a new (supposedly pregnant but didn't look like it) doe named Bella. Jill's 4 month old son Prince starts to show the same symptoms as his mom. I call the vet and talk to her and she said it sounds like he has a fatal gut disease. I followed the same regimen as I did his mom but with the addition of a chemical wormer. I thought he was a goner after the wormer. Just looked worse and worse. But a week and a half later, his poop returned to normal and the life returned to him. He is still super small for his age but he is recovering well. Bella seems to be losing weight and has diarrhea too. Treat her for coccidiosis and for tapeworms and give b-complex injections. Give her extra grain and hay daily.

December - Bella still looking skinny but slightly better. Decide to give her a different type of wormer for a different set of worms. She is still looking skinny and definitely anemic because the insides of her eyelids are very pale. Begin giving her an iron supplement as well as probiotics and continue b-complex a couple times a week.

January - Buy a buck to hopefully breed with Bella and Daisy. Watching Bella and Daisy for heat. See no signs but in Bella I see goo on her tail and that's usually a sign of heat, however the new buck is not interested in the slightest so I think I must be mistaken. Not sure what the goo is from though. A week later G and I go out to the barn to give all the goats copper supplements and give Bella an iron injection because the pelleted form is taking too long, although I am starting to see a little bit of improvement in the color inside her eyelids. We walk in the barn and I think I hear babies bleating. I ask G "what was that?" 8 year olds are not as attuned to things so he looked at me like I was crazy. "Did you hear that? Sounds like babies. Is it lambs?" I look in - no lambs. I check the goats. 2 kids!!!! Turns out Bella was pregnant which is why she had the goo. I told P a couple days earlier that I thought she might be a few months pregnant because she was starting to get a little round in the belly and her udder was very slightly developed. Glad that I paid close enough attention to see that something was going on, I just didn't realize what! If I weren't such a blonde, I would have put a reminder on my calendar that based on the date the previous owner told me she was bred, I should watch for kids around Jan 7. But I really really thought she was either not bred or only a few months along and just starting to show. So I send G in the house as fast as he can run to get towels, because it is SNOWING outside and Bella shows no interest in her kids - I try getting her to let them nurse but she kicks them away. One buckling is big and on his feet and ready to go. The other is about half the size and not very vibrant. I wrap one in a towel and hand it to G but it starts hollering and he panics and doesn't want to hold it. So I have him go get sis-in-law and we get the kids into the house and onto a blanket. Bella has no milk so I find some milk replacer from a couple of years ago that will have to do for the time being. We get the big one to take the bottle but the little one is struggling. I am running around like crazy trying to take care of Bella and kids and I haven't had dinner so am about to drop. Instead of eating I run out to the feed store in my goat afterbirth covered pink carhartt jacket and my grimy boots to get powdered colostrum because they need it ASAP. While I was out I got a pizza so we could have something for dinner since I obviously wasn't going to have time to cook. The mother in me wants to take care of everyone else first but sometimes I need to take care of me so I can take care of others. During my absence they got the little one to take some from a bottle and both kids were sleeping. But the smaller one's breathing sounds junky and labored and he's just not energetic. I sit with him on my lap and warm him up. Then I go to Bella and manage to get 12ml of colostrum from her that I fed to the little guy with a syringe. After a couple of hours he started perking up a bit. I finally went to bed at 12:30pm and P took over the 2am feeding and the little one took the bottle. Now the goal is to get Bella to start making milk so we have to put the kids on her every 1-2 hours and let them suck, even if they get nothing. Hopefully they will be so insistent that she finally gives in and accepts them. But at the very least I need MILK because I don't want to be raising kids on formula.

No more does are due to kid until late April and late May. This I am 100% sure of. But I don't know which sheep are pregnant or when they are due so I won't be surprised if I find more surprises in the barn in the coming months. Yes, this is my life.

~T