You see, I was going to a funeral. A funeral for my soon-to-be sister in law's father. It was up in Boston, and I was going to pay my respects, and give comfort to my brother and almost sister-in-law. It was going to be long day, but my husband was here to handle the farm and the kids, and I was looking forward to a day out, even though it was not under the best of circumstances.
Before I got all prettied up, though, I put on my farmy clothes to feed the animals. Chickens? Check. Geese and ducks? Check. Rabbits? Check. Goats? Check.
Everyone was bright eyed and happy and hungry, and I went about getting water and hay for the goats as I normally do, thinking I would get done quickly and then go get dressed and be on my way.
As I put the hay in the outdoor feeder for the goats, I saw Stewart sniffing Cleo's rear end. That's nothing new--Stewart is a conoisseur of does' rear ends--so I thought nothing of it. But then I went to pat her and give her a snuzzle and, well, take a look.
That can't be good. I looked again
I hoped that maybe it was from Stewart. He loves to jump Cleo, so I thought maybe he had a booboo on his parts and it was from him. I checked (he DID NOT mind--what a male he is!), but no. Then for a second, I stupidly optimistically hoped that maybe she'd cut her tail. But I knew I was fooling myself. Is there any woman who honestly doesn't know what that kind of blood looks like? We know it's not injury blood--I knew. Cleo is miscarrying.
I went inside to decide what to do. Go to the funeral, be out until late at night, and let nature take it's course was my first thought, but what if something bad happens? What if she crashes? My husband is in no way prepared to deal with this. He barely knows what to feed everyone. Should I take the chance anyway? Leave him with the number of a friend I trusted, who might be able to help out, just in case? It would be my luck to be in Massachusetts with Cleo going into some sort of shock and dying.
So I went back out, trying to decide, only deciding to look again and see what I thought, and there was fresh blood on Cleo's parts. That decided it. I called everyone and apologized.
So Miss Cleo is in the garage barn in a pen, bleeding away a bit, but otherwise acting like she's not got a care in the world.
|La lala la la lala! I like hay!!!!|
Hopefully, she stays that way. She looks a little peaky to me, but that's really all I can say. She's eating like a pig, and standing and walking about fine. I don't know what I'm expecting to see her do; probably not much. She's only 5 or so weeks along, so there's not much in there to see, I think. Maybe some ooze, blood, I'm not sure if there's any tissue in there resembling a goat at this point, even. I am nearly positive that this was caused by the headbutting that she gets from everyone all the time. She's the bottom of the pile, my Cleo, and she gets beat on by everyone. My guess is that little Dulcinea finally landed one just right and that did it. Dulci is extremely jealous of Cleo and beats on her when I pay her the slightest bit of attention. Girls!!!
And that's the news. I am home today, watching and waiting, and going about my normal routine otherwise. I think Cleo will be fine, and I hope I'm right. I just have to wait for her to do whatever she is going to do, and then put her back out with the others. And that's farm life for you, isn't it? Not exactly convenient. But, on the bright side, my hair looks darn purty! :)
UPDATED TO ADD: She did pass a goob a bit after 10 o'clock this morning. I thought she was peeing, but pee wasn't what came out. It was a very small something, whatever it was. She is still "leaking" a bit this afternoon, but she's still perky as ever, and she ate like a horse. She's just being kind of careful about her back end, which is understandable.