You've got to be kidding!

An up date on baby #1. 

I am so happy to report after three days she has her sight.  With gaining her sight she began lifting her head which strengthened the neck muscles and in turn helped the hunched shoulders and straightened her sway back.  She is now romping around my kitchen as a normal kid would do. 

I must say those few days were very demanding. I carried her everywhere I went, if I didn’t she would yell the place down needing to know where I was. We were doing the four hourly feeds, I didn’t need to set my alarm to get up and feed her, her yelling woke the entire farm. Now I am sure any new mother would be green with envy to learn she is 4 days old and last night slept 10 hours straight!  

So I will have to find a name for her.  Sometimes a name will come to me straight away other times I have to ruminate on it.  Well she was sitting in my lap a few minutes ago and the name ‘Xanthe’ popped into my head, so Xanthe it is.  I can just imagine my family rolling their eyes at that one. Ah well, with animals we can get away with naming them something a little unusual.

Xanthe

I remember now what it is like being a new mother.  Dishes stacked in the sink, bed unmade, and the house desperately needs a vacuum, hair un-brushed; did I remember to brush my teeth this morning? Same clothes on for the past...hmm is it three days, they are covered in some interesting stains.  So damned tired I can hardly think straight.

It is not just having a new baby to care for but all the other demands on the farm which snowball all at once.  My quad decided to die in the driveway so to move things around for the goats I don’t have the quad trailer; I now have to push a wheelbarrow over all terrain.  Yesterday afternoon a silly doe decided to jump into it as I was moving hay for them, she broke the legs on the barrow. I can still wheel it but not put it down as everything in it topples out.

Otis has Urinary calculi again, there is a lot of blood in his urine, I am extremely concerned for my gorgeous boy, anti-inflammatory, steroids and anitbiotics don’t appear to be helping much this time. 

I have to keep checking a doe is feeding her babies, I think she would prefer I do it for her so she can go off shopping all day.

Jasmine’s little girl has a turned lower eyelid which I treat twice a day; another kid’s eye needs looking at as well.  They do insist on playing in the dirt.

I am still waiting on this last doe to kid.  The other night at 9pm she was breathing strangely, a little like panting, I thought she may have been in the early stages of labour. I checked her at 11pm, 1am; 3am; 5am; 7am.  No, she just wanted to keep me up all night!

Never in ten years have I had such a trying kidding season.  It is full on with hardly a break before I am needed for the next birth. 

Did my Does not read the Boer Goat Manual?  Quote” Normally kidding is a hands off situation with no need for assistance. Rarely do Boer goats give birth at night” unquote.

So far I have had to assist 7 of the 15 pregnant does due to abnormal kid positions. Front feet first babies, Please!!!  Or the amniotic sac has not broken by itself therefore if I do not break it baby would drown after being born in what kept it safe inside. If I had been aware of 2 other does being in labour I may have 3 more live babies.  

Assisting means going in with my hand – Oh Yes – the mothers love that and are so co operative – Not. While my girls are generally quiet in nature they become untrusting she devils in labour.

This is the scene from the first delivery this year.  Keep in mind I only had to assist twice before in ten years of kidding at our place and never at night.

My doe has been in labour too long, straining for at least two hours.  It is 9.30pm. I have to grab her by a horn, use the other hand to get a dog collar and lead on her all while she is pulling and twisting to get away from me. Then I literally drag her to a tree to secure her to. Ever tried to drag a 50kg + goat someplace they don’t want to go?  This one had me skidding on my bum! 

Now I can go exploring gently up her ‘whatsit’ to my wrist to figure out baby’s position.  I have a head lamp on, another torch illuminating the puffy end.  In I go.   Is that a head? Where the hell are the legs? What is that squishy thing I am feeling?   I need to find legs to gentle draw them forward so baby can be born with ease.   No Legs, now I am panicking, how do I help this doe?

Thankfully my good friend is a far more experienced goat midwife than I am.  She is on speed dial.  Mobile phone on loud speaker and for once actually in a spot it can pick up reception here in “Black spot for all technology land’.  It is now 10pm. I wail to her I have no idea what I am feeling; I simply can’t make it out.  My friend talks me through what I am feeling.  She makes me laugh, she tells me she is miming what she is telling me to do while on the other end of the line.  I have to try to find shoulders then ease my hand around them until I find a foot.  Well finally young “Prince Harry” was born.  Yeah I know, I shouldn’t name the boys but this little guy just reminds me of Prince Harry.   His sister is born five minutes later with no help from me, phew!

Prince Harry

Warning:  Explicit photos of a goat giving birth follow.

This is my beautiful Missy, She was thoughtful enough to need help with her babies during daylight hours and as you can see from the last photo quite thankful.

The first baby has both legs backwards

You have a son Missy

Second one on the way

A girl this time

 Aren't I clever?  Yes Missy very clever.

Mean Girls

If you think some girls from school were bullies I can tell you pregnant does hold the trophy of being nasty, spiteful females.

Put a bunch of hormonal does together and you can be assured of a bitch fest. Instead of words they use their heads.  Copow!  A good head butt to the side of that one simply because she is in another’s space. How the unborn kids survive this punishment just proves how tough goats are.

The herd heavies can sniff out a more timid vulnerable doe in a second and intimidate her to the extent she is too scared to even try to come to the feed trough. If she does make it that far she is constantly on the lookout for the full on head butt to the side of the body, racing in and out of the melee at the food bar, trying to grab a bite to eat but maintain her safety.

Food...one would think these girls are starving.  I take my life in my hands when I feed them morning and afternoon. 

The scene is quite manic.  Before I can even empty the grain into the troughs I am being pushed and jostled from all sides, a tangle of their horns, head and bodies shoving between my legs to get to the food first.  My thighs are constantly horn bruised. Keeping my balance is simply a miracle.

Once the food is out the silly girls run in a frenzy from one trough to another, just in case they are missing out on something better over there. 

I seem to be always saying to them, “Girls a little decorum please, you are pregnant.’

Clover is queen of the hay feeder.  She will jump into the middle of the feeder dominating from above, making sure she has the royal share of the hay.

These two girls are clever.  They scramble under the bale holder to eat from underneath where they can’t be attacked or run off by stand over girl Jasmine.

"No Closer Blondie!"

Bella certainly puts ‘B’ into bully and bitch.  She will wallop into any goat too close to her, no provocation needed.

It gets no better after kidding.  If a little babe mistakes a doe for its mum, or gets too close to her, the doe will use a slightly more gentle head swipe to push it away.  I am quite horrified at the meanness towards the innocent kids. 

"Outa my space kid, you don't belong to me"

Watching this carry on I wonder what happened to my usually sweet natured girls.