Yesterday, was a sad ending to a difficult day where my thyrroid had crashed leaving me battling to keep up with our youngest grand daughter who was spending the day while her mom was at the doctors and a delivery of a dead kid.
After our extremely busy grand daughter left, I layed down a while and then a neighbor dropped by and said he'd just delivered a dead kid and had to leave for work and the doe wasn't done kidding. I agreed to go and take over. I grabbed my birthing bag full of towels, iodine, and a nursing bottle, and headed out thinking the doe would have had time to put the next kid in position by the time I arrived. The poor doe was licking her first born, despite the lack of life in the still form. There was no signs of labor and no feet peeking out from the doe's back end.
I decided I'd best check inside. Confusion met my hand. Was it the hind end made pointed and sharp because of hind legs extended toward it's front legs or was this the head with the front legs bent and tucked under it? As small as the kid was, it wouldn't matter which way I pulled it, breach or correct as it should slipped out without much trouble so I went for the legs to straighten them.
It ended up being the kid had it's head in position and front legs tucked and bent back. My heart sank as I pulled the brown form and saw its tongue hanging out. There was that feeling that speaks to you and whispers that death has captured this soul. It felt as if like had been gone for a while but not wanting to give up hope just yet, I did a few chest compressions and blew into it's lungs. Oh how I wished I could of given my neighbor good news but raising livestock isn't always full of smiles.
I woke up this morning with a heavy feeling and needed a lift. After my visit with my doctor, I anxiously headed to therapy. Animals have such a wonderful ability to create peace and healing.
I needed to spend time to gentle down the yaks and the younger goats. After sitting on the ground next to the feeder, just outside the fence so as to give the yaks an added security measure, I reached through the fence as they stretched down toward the grain. Gracie ate out of my hand and Jasmine allowed me to stroke her nose, yeah, progress.
Next, it was off to the mare's pen, she got a good grooming, which she loved. Then it was off to give a little relief to Chicory. She is milking up a storm and I milk her out a little morning and night when needed. I think I'll start taking a small amount home. The kids are nursing well and don't need it so Chicory has been drinking the extra to help with her calcium issue. I milk into a bucket and then feed it back to her. She can't wait to get to it. Nothing but manners can stop her as I'm milking her squatted on the ground in the middle of the pen, no restraints. She's anxiously to get to the yummy part and curls around as I milk, trying to reach the bucket. She can't quite reach unless she tips the bucket. So with a sly shine in my eyes, I tried squirting a stream into her mouth. She drank it just like a cat crouched near a milking stand.
Meanwhile, Bella kept trying to climb up my back, vying for attention. Who couldn't help but laugh. I couldn't.
Then I sat and watched our dear Rosie, queen of the feed pan.
She is so... full of it.
How can you not smile looking at this little cutie.
Need a smile? Come visit.
Check back tomorrow, I've got two sourdough breads brewing.