Some News

Well, I said I was hoping to give you "some news" soon, and look at that!  Here it is. 

It turns out the vet didn't mess up.  Instead, the wrong vet answered the question about the tests, and answered it wrong because she thought that I was someone else.  Yeay.  The right vet called me last night.  She did hurry the test and the results are in:  Mastitis caused by staph (mastitis is caused by staph or strep, by the way.  They both stink, but that's what causes the disease).  Oh, yeay!  Should I be cheering for that?  Yes, I should, because that can be treated. 

Anyway, today I am heading there in the morning to pick up the heavy duty meds she has prescribed.  If the meds work, as I am hoping, the doctor says that Minerva's milk production should increase and the hardness should go down.  So there it is.  I'm crossing my fingers for this to work. 

In other news, she milked an entire 2 cups this morning (no, I don't weigh it.  It's such a small amount, it's not worth it).  I know it's laughable, but that's a record for her so far.  In the morning especially, she gives me a cup, a cup and a third at most.  So two is some progress.  Because of that, I have hopes that the meds will work and Minerva will be the producer I really believe she can be.  It seems as though the penicillin did help a little, and since it decreased the swelling a little, she's been producing a little more.  I only hope mega-biotics will "open the dam" and milk will flow.

Stay tuned!  Hey, maybe next time I'll talk about something else!  I can tell you it would sure be nice to think about something else!

Drip, Drip, Drop

Well, it's raining again.  From a number of your blog posts, I can see that a bunch of you are sharing this lovely weather with me.  I was going to take you on a tour of my gardens, but it's wet out there!  Not to mention it's been rather cool as well.  Many things don't seem to mind, but some definitely do.  This will be an interesting year, I think. 

I did snap you a picture of the large garden, but from inside the house.  See?

That's as close as I'm going to get today.  I promise, if it ever stops raining, we'll have a proper look about.

Things have been dripping along here at Chicken Scratch.  The crops are growing, the chickens are laying, the geese are complaining, the goats are REALLY complaining, and so on.  I've had to move the goats' feeders to the upper fence because of all the mud.  This morning, they all came running out of the house to the lower fence, stopped, and looked at me like "Ok.....Where is it?".  Jeez, they are smart.  I only had to point, and they got it.  I know tonight they'll go to the right side.  After all, food is in the balance!

Lilly is due in 9 days.  She's gotten quiet, which I expect.  She's bagged up a little, and luckily her bag is remaining soft for now.  I'm praying that it stays that way.  Dulcinea is fat.  Fat like a sausage fat.  I tell her, but she doesn't believe me.  She prefers to try to haul her bulk into my lap or rub her largess all over me until I pay attention to her.  Stewart was stung on his nose, and is all stuffed up and snortier than usual.  Poor pupkin.  The only bonus is that it's cut down on his yodeling a little bit, which has been nice.  However Max and Cynthia are picking up the slack and sing as much as they can all the time.  It's quite the chorus some days.  And Cleo just keeps to herself.

The littles have been named, just because I felt bad calling them "Brown Minerva" and "Other One".  Not cool.  So I introduce to you Amelia (formerly Brown Minerva, in front here) and Olive (formerly Other One, in back).

Amelia has become quite the cuddle bug.  Olive is an independent type of girl.  They are both sweeties and have kinda blue eyes, which is very unusual.  It's actually pretty cool.  They are getting around like gangbusters, and went to school yesterday to see my daughter's fifth grade class so they could learn a little something about goats.  It was a nice day, but I wouldn't be wrong to say that fifth graders at the end of the year are all about boy/girl stuff, making fun of each other, and TV.  So sad.  I know a few of them got something out of it.  The rest of them were just grateful they weren't in the classroom.   

These girls are here for now, and I am waiting to see what Lilly gives us to decide who stays and who doesn't.  It's not going to be easy, but I can't keep everyone.  I am trying to do what's best for us as a family, and what's best for the herd as a whole.  It's a suck decision, and I've spent way too much time over it.  Especially because of the whole Minerva debacle.  That is a game changer in a lot of ways, and truly not something I'm really happy about.  But like I said, we don't get "easy" over here.  Everything is a challenge in some way.

As for Minerva, the vets screwed up and sent the mastitis test snail mail instead of quickly, which is what I asked for.  I am not expecting to hear about it until next week at the earliest because of their screw up.  I'm not happy--it's a good thing she's not dying, or she'd be dead by the time the tests returned.  In the meantime, I have stopped the meds because A) I may have been treating her with mega-doses of penicillin for something she does not have and killing her internal flora and B) I think that 6 days of Banamine is a bad idea for her overall health.  I feel the vet really dropped the ball on this one, and threw a bunch of stuff at Minerva in hopes that something stuck.  And let me tell you this:  though with the treatment, her hard udder reduced somewhat, today it had reduced quite a bit more, and she's been off the meds for a while.  I don't know that anything they gave me did anything at all.  What's wrong with Minerva?  I have no idea.  She still milks a crappy cup and some odd every time she's milked.  But the swelling or hardness or whatever is going down.  I don't think I'm at the end of this story yet.

Which means I can't say what the plan for Minerva is, either, which I'd like to be able to say, but I just can't.  Right now we're just chugging along and kind of in stasis at the same time.  As for your comments on the last post, yes, I get it.  Minerva stays, regardless of what happens with her or doesn't happen with her.  I think that's the beauty of living on a "homestead" instead of a "farm".   There's no push to produce.  The milk is for us; for cheese and drinking and lots of lovely things.  The fact that she's not a great producer matters, but I have no standards of gallons I have to make.  I have no quotas.  There's a little bit of freedom--of good--to be found in something that is this disappointing.  I've been trying to find it.

So that's where it stands, which is to say, nowhere really.  I am looking forward to giving you all good news, or at least some news, which would be nice.  Bear with me--things are a bit in flux here, but they can't stay that way forever.  We'll be heading in a direction soon enough.

Of course, we may float there with all this rain. 

Easy Ain't In Our Vocabulary

There's always been one thing that's true:  if it's going to be done here, it's going to be the hardest way possible, and there will be many, many problems.  Easy ain't in our vocabulary.  Maybe the universe is laughing--I'm not.  Maybe it's trying to teach me something new--but I'm good, I think I can learn less for a while, thankyouverymuch.  Maybe it thinks I can handle it--possibly it could think that I would like a break?

Point here is that Minerva gave birth.  You all know this.  They are sweet little potato buds, and I think one was already on the computer, sneaky little monkey, but they're doing fine.  Minerva......not so much.  After having the babies, her udder just got gigantic.  But hard.  So, so hard.  Inside was fibrous, even muscular, in feel.  Being a noob, I had no idea what that was about.  Maybe that was normal?  I've milked a goat once in my life--kinda-- what did I know?  So I looked into it, and nope, that's not normal.  She should have a nice firm udder when full, but hey look at that, it's supposed to feel empty when she's been milked.  Neither one of those is true for Minerva.  Hard and fibrous on the inside when I start, almost no milk comes out, and it's hard and fibrous when I'm done. 

We is completely adorable!

So I researched.  I've become a hell of a researcher, let me tell you, and found out that my old friend, CAE, which Minerva is positive for, can cause a hard udder.  And those with it will may never give much milk, and of course, there's the whole "just put them down" argument to follow.  Ignoring the "just put them down" argument, I found that I could find out very little about what a CAE udder actually feels like.  Anyone who experienced it said it felt like "stone" or "wood" or "concrete".  She doesn't feel like that.  She feels like fibrous muscle.  Are they the same?  Is one woman's "stone" another woman's "fibrous muscle"?  It's all relative.

I finally broke down and emailed Teresa over at Eden Hills.  She found out she has CAE in her herd last year, so I thought I could talk to her.  She was wonderful and emailed me right back and said, yes, CAE can cause the hard udder, but Minerva should still have a good amount of nice milk and we can drink it, and it can be ok.  So ok, I thought, I knew part of that, so that might be it.  If that is the case, I guess I'll wait and see how much milk Minerva can produce even with her hard udder.

Peoples, I said we is ADORABLE!  And evilbad.  he he he

Ah, but see, that would have been easy.  While all this was going on, and I thought I had at least figured out the problem, a day or two went by and Minerva's udder still produced a single cup of milk per milking, and joy of joys--she started to cry all the time.  Minerva, the goat who doesn't talk (unless she's displeased with the accommodations, mind you, but even then it takes a lot to get her going), started to YELL.  Constantly.  And at times, very loudly.

You know how it is when you have a new baby, and the baby cries all the time and you get totally stressed out because you just don't know what it wants, and nothing you do helps, and it won't stop crying?  Welcome to my world, baby.  ALL.  THE.  TIME.  It was obvious that she was distressed.  I did not know why.  I took her temperature.  Nothing.  I increased her feed, maybe she was hungry.  Nah, but she didn't mind most of the time.  Other times she said "no thank you" and didn't want it.  The only time she stopped crying was when I was near.  Or on the milking stand.  When I milked, she didn't cry.  I'd get her requisite cup, and she was ok during the time.  Then I put her off the stand, and she'd start yelling again.


Help!  Goat overboard!

I was at the end of my rope.  I was down to three possibilities; mastitis (the tests all said no), edema (which I thought would be my best choice), or CAE.  And still the crying.  And still the cup of milk.  Asked another person I know, who after telling me how horrible it all was sounding and how end of the world-y it was (ever met a person like that?  They are not the ones to talk to when you're already really worried) and suggesting I call this person and that person and see if anyone can help me at all (but, you know, probably not), I said screw it and brought her to the vet.

And guess what?  It can be one of three things:  CAE, mastitis, or edema.  Ok, that I knew.  But, she broke it down for me, and I understand better what my options are, and that's a life saver right there.  Plus, she gave me meds I didn't have.  BONUS!

Here's the deal.  If it's CAE, there's nothing I can do.  She will always have a hard udder and may never give more than a cup of milk.  Did the vet say "let her go"?  Yep, she did.  But I said "Not an option", so she said that her suggestion would be either continue milking her or don't, but eventually dry her up and don't breed her again.  If all she will give is a cup, and I'm after the milk and not the babies, that would be the course of action for us.  Luckily, Minerva is one of the two goats we own who understands cart horse commands-and will actually obey them.  Lilly is the other.  If this is the case for her, Minerva will be the cart goat I was wanting.  She will be the pack goat.  Minerva is very, very smart.  She can handle it without a problem.  She will earn her keep in another way--not the way I'd like, but it's something.

I did take the babies away from Minerva.  She was so unhappy and their presence seemed to make the situation worse, so they've been separated.  She noticed a little, but she's not as upset as I would have thought.

The other two possibilities are the ones I'm hoping it is.  I know, that's horrible.  I hope it's mastitis or edema.  What kind of monster am I?  But those two things are treatable, and would mean that once cleared up, she should be a normal and hopefully excellent milker.  In case it's mastitis, the vet took a culture to be sent off for a mega test that beats my little at home test, and Minerva's being treated with a  mega dose of penicillin every day to help fight it.  If mastitis is confirmed, there will be more antibiotics to follow.  If mastitis is not the case, it could be edema.  And so the vet gave me Banamine, which I did not have, and is an anti-inflammatory and pain reliever.  Little miracle in a bottle.  There's a course of that to be given as well.  If it's edema, it will make the swelling go down.

Strike a pose!  This one is a hambone.

So here's the ending so far.  Minerva was dosed at the vet with the penicillin and the Banamine and then she stopped crying somewhat.  This morning she is a little gripey, but she's not yelling at me.  And when I put her on the stand---miracle of miracles--her udder felt slightly less hard.  As in to say, the fibrous mass was a little less.  I still got a cup of milk.  Woot.  But I feel that finally we're on the right road.

I don't know what's wrong with Minerva just yet, but I am thrilled she's stopped yelling at the top of her lungs all the time.  I hate to have an animal suffer, and it just put my stress levels through the roof.  As to the plan of what to do with her and what her job will be, I don't know until I know what's going on.  Right now I'm just collecting her little cup of milk and freezing it.  Goat milk soap will abound from her milk.  And I'm crossing my fingers that Lilly doesn't go through any of this.  What are the positives for this?  Well, Minerva did make some pretty flippin' cute babies, you will all learn more about CAE from me than you (or I) ever wanted to know, and I love to milk.  Love love love.  It is relaxing and wonderful in a way I can't describe.  I'm totally addicted.  Fear managed! 

So...

I think it's pretty obvious that goats are smarter than cats, because Thor showed me where this was, and I knew how to use it right away.  He calls it the "magic box", but I know it's a computer.  I think that proves my point right there.

Anyway, I think I should introduce myself.  I'm the little brown doeling who was born Monday.  I haven't picked my name yet, so Milk Mama is just calling me "Brown Minerva", but that's not a very good name.  I will be sure to come up with a much better one when I finally name myself.

Maybe it's better than what she's calling my older sister, though, which is "Little Penguin Goat".  That's just bad, I think, but my sister doesn't mind.  She's too busy being a camera hog to even notice, honestly.

I think she's just showing off her jewelry, because I didn't get any.  But that's ok, because she's just black and white, and I am fancy brown.  Milk Mama says I'm "café au lait" color, but I have no idea what that is, unless it means fancy brown.  Because that's what I am, so then she'd be right.

I've only been alive one day, but I have learned so much.  First of all, I am royalty!  That was a surprise, let me tell you.  I thought I was just an ordinary, beautifully colored, doeling.  But then Goat Mama told me that she's Herd Queen, and my dad, who she met at the Drive Up Buck Service was named Little Prince, so I think that makes me at least a princess.  That's a big responsibility, isn't it?  Probably not one my sister can handle, though, since she's so busy showing herself off.  I guess I'll have to be princess for both of us.

Goat Mama has been telling us many things about the goats she rules in the goat yard across the way.  Right now, she says she's taking time off because she had us, but normally she says she has to rule with an iron hoof, because the other goats can get out of hand and she likes a certain sense of order to her day.  She says there is a time for laying outside, a time for laying inside, a time for eating grain, and time for eating hay, and a time for chewing cud.  She says that the routine has to be followed to the letter, or nothing gets done correctly.  She says she knows that without her being over in the goat yard, it's got to be chaos.  She already can see that Aunt Lilly is missing her and wanting her back, and that Stewart the loudgoat is much louder without her there to shush him. 

Goat Mama says also that we will have special privileges because we are her daughters-- we won't get T-boned by Stewart, and we shouldn't have our ears bitten by Dulcinea, because the others know not to mess with Goat Mama, the Herd Queen.  I think that sounds pretty good to me.  I like Goat Mama.  I don't like her quite as much as Milk Mama, but she at least speaks the same language as us.  Plus she's full of information, and she's got that privilege protection I was just talking about.  That makes her pretty handy.  It's just too bad she doesn't have any food on her.  That would make her the greatest.

Anyway, as I will one day maybe rule the herd, or at least rule it maybe with Goat Mama, she has been telling us all kinds of information about everyone.  This is what I know so far.

• Aunt Lilly really isn't our aunt, or even related, but since Goat Mama and Aunt Lilly grew up together and always like to be together, it's like they are sisters, so we have to respect what Aunt Lilly tells us.  And we shouldn't talk back to her, or she will T-bone us, and she's allowed to because she's near royalty.  I guess that makes her a Duchess, or something, but no one calls her that.  Goat Mama says Milk Mama calls Aunt Lilly "Second in Command", and that's about as much of a title as she'll ever get, and it's good enough.  Goat Mama says also that there was a dark time in the way way past when Aunt Lilly was actually Herd Queen, but it didn't last because Goat Mama's horns grew back and Aunt Lilly's didn't.  It took only one smack with her head to put Aunt Lilly in second place, and there she will stay, Goat Mama says.  Goat Mama is pretty great.

• Dulcinea bites ears, because she doesn't have any herself.  She also has no problem T-boning small kids, because she's small, but they are smaller.  Goat Mama says she's sort of a bully, but is only really bad if you come between her and Milk Mama.  Goat Mama says Dulcinea is VERY attached to Milk Mama, and still thinks that she can sit on Milk Mama's lap, which she can't really do because she's too fat.  Goat Mama also says that if you are pet a lot by Milk Mama, Dulcinea is sure to bite you or T-bone you because she is so jealous.  But then Goat Mama says none of that really applies to us, since we are royalty.  It's just F.Y.I.

• Stewart is a buck, which pretty much says it all.  Goat Mama says that he's famous for his yodeling, which he would do all day and all night if he could because he's so in love with the sound of his own voice.  If it weren't for Goat Mama sushing him and Milk Mama yelling at him to shut up, he would never be quiet.  I have already heard Stewart the loudgoat yodeling for Goat Mama from over in the pen.  He is very loud.  Goat Mama has told him to be quiet, but he can't see her, so he yodels louder.  I think that Goat Mama has to be closer for him to pay attention.  Maybe she also has to smack him with her horn and that would help.  Goat Mama says there's going to be a lot of law to lay down when she gets back.

• Cleo is a meat goat, which is why she's so dumb, Goat Mama says.  Goat Mama also says that since she's been with us in the birthing pen that Cleo has taken it upon herself to jump the fence, which only Cleo can do because she has all that muscle.  Goat Mama says that won't be tolerated when she gets back, and that Cleo will need a good thunking to put that out of her mind.  Goat Mama says that probably won't take much, since Cleo's mind is so small anyway, and for all of her size, she's a big wuss.  Goat Mama says we have nothing to fear from Cleo, because her good point is that she's pretty nice to kids, although she's distractible and will probably forget that we are there.  Goat Mama says the only thing we have to worry about is Cleo sitting on us, because she's also pretty clumsy.  But she's a meat goat, and that explains that too.  Everyone knows the dairy goats got all the brains.

• Maxwell is the other buck, which would say it all, but he's still young, Goat Mama says, so he's still ok.  Goat Mama says that Maxwell loves Milk Mama and sits in her lap every chance he gets, even though Dulcinea bites his ears.  When she does that, Goat Mama says, he takes it personally and his feelings get hurt.  I guess he's a feeling goat.  He and Stewart hang out too much, Goat Mama says, so he's starting to yodel, too, even though he can't yodel the same as Stewart.  Goat Mama says that she thinks she can beat that out of him when she gets back, and then he'll be a perfect gentleman.  Goat Mama says that he's a handsome boy, and if I get to pick who my Onetruelove is, I should pick him, because he's an Alpine, and everyone knows Alpines are superior to any other breed.  That has to be so because she's Herd Queen.  Goat Mama says that me and my sister are half Alpine, so we're half superior.  She says unfortunately the other half is Nubian, like Stewart, so we're at a little deficit.  She said that Milk Mama picked out her Onetruelove for her, and he was a Nubian at the Drive Up Buck Service.  Luckily he was also royalty, but she says she never would have chosen a Nubian herself, because of the yodeling issue.  But she says that since we are girls, we're superior anyway, so that might just make up for it.

• Cynthia is the last one in the yard, Goat Mama says, and Goat Mama says that she likes to yell shrilly when it's time to eat and sometimes at other times too.  Maybe she hangs out with Stewart too, but Goat Mama doesn't know. Goat Mama says Cynthia stays under the radar, because she is so small.  Goat Mama says she really needs a good thumping to stop her from shrilly yelling, but Cynthia's so under the radar Goat Mama hardly can see her sometimes.  Maybe it's because she's black, Goat Mama says, but she's not sure.  She is really little, so that could be why also. 

• Milk Mama isn't one of the herd, but Goat Mama says she's like one of the herd, even though she's a humanperson.  Goat Mama says it's too bad she's a humanperson, because otherwise she's perfectly good.  Goat Mama says that Milk Mama runs the whole place so she is always very busy.  But Milk Mama doesn't run Goat Mama, that would be ridiculous.  Humanpersons are not as advanced as goats, she says.  Goat Mama says that she likes Milk Mama because Milk Mama gives her yummy things like grain and hay, and she makes sure everyone is safe and secure at night, and she also gives treats.  But she gives too many kisses, Goat Mama says. Goat Mama also says that despite that, she likes her well enough to listen to her sometimes, and she never thumps Milk Mama, out of respect.  Milk Mama has been milk mama to Dulcinea, Maxwell, Cynthia, and me and my sister, so I guess that means she's like the maid or the cook.  Anyway, Goat Mama says that we should listen to what Milk Mama says when we feel like it, but right now would be a good time not to, because Milk Mama is a bit overwhelmed with all the things going on, and Milk Mama really needs 4 more people to help her do her job, but Milk Mama is the only milk mama there is, so that's not going to happen.  Goat Mama also says that Milk Mama is worried about her because her udder is so fibrous, and Milk Mama is thinking that it's the CAE that Goat Mama has, manifesting itself.  Goat Mama said that we shouldn't get CAE because we have cow milk and colostrum from a jar, which is good and safe, but not as much fun.  Have you ever tried to butt a bottle?  Not the same.  Anyway, that seems to be why Goat Mama has no food for us, so mystery solved.  Though my sister and I haven't pestered Milk Mama too much, Goat Mama has been doing the pestering for us, dancing on the milk stand, putting her foot in the milk bucket whenever she can, complaining about the accommodations, not eating her grain unless there are special treats in it, that sort of thing.  Goat Mama says that all that pestering just shows that she wants Milk Mama to continue to be employed and not get bored.  She says that's how you show you care about your good employees.

I have a lot to learn, I know.  It's a good thing that Goat Mama likes to talk to us, or I'd have no idea what to do!  Right now I'm trying to perfect my skibbling technique, which my sister has got down cold, but I'm still working on.  I just know that when I do get it, I'll be a much better skibbler than her!!!  So ha!

I've gotta go now.  I think I have decided to pester the good Milk Mama employee by maaa-ing at her to eat, even when I'm not hungry, because I just ate.  I want her to feel like she has "job security", at least, that's what Goat Mama calls it.

Bye for now!
Brown Minerva

1+2=3

I was ready for 1:30 or 2:00 in the morning. 

I was ready yesterday.

But what do I know?  Nothing. 

Minerva got the "weirds" yesterday.  Breathing like a steam engine, visible contractions, panic when I left her, strutted udder, the whole nine.  So I stayed with her almost the entire day.  It was a long one.  I worried overnight that I wouldn't hear her, even though she was right behind my head.

But nothing, so there was no problem.

This morning, if it's at all possible, Minerva was weirder.  Yawning, stretching.  Laying like a beached whale.

Then she didn't really eat her breakfast.  She looked LESS pregnant. And I said "Here it comes".

I grabbed my stuff (again), got in the pen, and watched.  Udder strutted, ligaments GONE.

Up, down, up, down she went.  That lasted 45 minutes.  Just when I was thinking that maybe I ought to come back in a little while, she layed down in a weird way and pushed.

And her vulva went out, and I said (to myself, because it was just me there) "Here it comes".

Then minutes later there was a bubble,

and I had to reposition her because her butt was up against the wall, and 2 seconds later, there were feet, and then I pulled some legs out, and then there was a head in perfect diving position, and then a yelling Minerva, and then a baby!

And 30 seconds later--I kid you not---there was another one.

I was cleaning them both off at the same time, they came so fast.

And I sucked out some mucous with the mucous sucker, and I shot them in the butts with Bo-Se, and they stood up like half an hour later and tried to nurse from my armpit.  And my elbow.  And the side of my leg.

And I used every towel I brought in there to clean them off, and then some.  But Minerva is also washing them.  She wants to take care of them, I can tell.  She's already talking to them and everything.  Luckily, however, she doesn't seem to want them to nurse.  They come back looking, and she steps away.  Either way, I'll have to tape her teats. I'm pretty sure she won't like that.

I got a nice bottle in those two lickety split.  They were hungry!  And I milked out Minerva a little bit, and discovered one side is harder to milk out than the other.  I will have to work on it.  But surprisingly, she was patient with me.  And she didn't have her face in the grain bucket, either.

Two hours later she passed the placenta, and I called it good.  So....

...presenting the FIRST EVER kids to be born here at Chicken Scratch Acres.....

Baby #1, a doeling weighing in at 6 1/2 pounds and looking like an Oreo cookie,

And

Baby #2, ANOTHER doeling weighing in at 6 pounds and looking like Minerva, but maybe with some brown.

Heaven knows what their ears will look like, though.  They're half Nubian!

Congratulations, Minerva!  What a trooper!!

T-Minus 4 Days. 5 Days? 4 Days.

I guess it depends on how you look at it. 

She's due the 4th of June.

She's gigantic.

Poor Minnie-Merva. 

She's tired and uncomfortable.  She sat down, stood up, sat down all day.  Her back end is all puffy.  Her udder is HUGE.  She has had tummy trouble because there are FEET in her rumen.  Go figure.  I can actually see them move across her side and land-POW-right in the wrong spot. That hasn't helped at all.

And to add insult to injury, she's in lockdown in the kidding pen in the garage-barn until she gives birth. 

During the day she can roam and hang out in the goatyard.  At night, I need her close, so I can hear.  Minerva has CAE, remember, so I have to pull her babies after she has them.  This is not something I look forward to or will relish doing, but it should be done for the sake of the babies.  We'll see how it works out.  Either way, I need to be there to make sure she's a-ok.

So she's in lockdown.  But she was SO lonely last night, I couldn't leave her lonely.  So I brought in her second in command, her trusty lieutenant, Lilly.

"Um, hello?  It's ME!"

Who is a picture hog. 

Tonight, the same thing.  They are in together.  You'd think that would make them happy, or at least resigned to the same old same old, but no.  After they were put in the pen with all the nice clean hay and the cold water bucket and a little alfalfa and beet pulp they complained.  It went like this.

MA-A-A-A!  MAAAA-AAAA!
Translation:  Hey bellhop.  Where's the mint on the pillow??

M-A-A-A-A-A!  MAAAAAAAAAAAA!!
Translation:  Why isn't there Pay Per View??

Then finally, when that was not working:

MAAAA!  MAAAAA!  MA-A-A-A-A-A!!
Translation:  I have a herd to run, you know!!! 

and
MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!
Translation:  Why do you hate us?  We are so nice.  Why do you lock us away, alone, and forgotten?  Why, Bad Lady, why???

Minerva makes her sad face, which coincidentally looks just like her "give me more grain" face. 
She's a chameleon, she truly is.

It is very, very sad.  It truly is. 

We are in the countdown.  Soon, my friends, I think soon. 

Full Days

You know how spring is--time to hustle and bustle!  Lots of things are happening here, and I thought I'd catch you up.

*  The kittens are getting big.  They hit the big 3 week mark yesterday, and were all down the hallway.  They spend most of their time under my daughter's bed, but they have started to venture out.  They are cuties, and I think they'd spend more time walking around, but mama cat is a bit too nervous.  She likes to scoot them right back under the bed when they go out, complaining the entire time. 

Which way am I looking???

 When we do see them, they are very sweet.

*  Spring means lots of eggs, so I've been using them the best I can.  Currently I'm working on pasta.

Multi-purpose drying rack!

I have made egg noodles and regular fettuccini.  I think my next thing will be to make pound cakes to freeze.  Then maybe an Angel Food cake.  Or three.  Maybe that'll get it under control.  :)

*  The gardens are nearly planted--I have the dry beans to get in the ground, which I keep meaning to do, and then either something else comes up, or it rains.  I'm hoping tomorrow morning is the morning.  Otherwise, I'm all planted.  I can tell you that I underestimated the number of seedlings I would need this year.  Going from 2100 square feet to the 3000 square feet was a much bigger jump than I thought it would be, and I ran out of lots of things and was sticking things in willy-nilly.  It should work out, it's just not as organized as I'd like.  But that's ok.  Things will still be delicious.

 I've also got it mostly mulched, which is good, because the weeds are out with a vengeance this year.

*  It looks like it's going to be a good year for strawberries.  Though the pipes are doing "ok", the bed is doing beautifully.

Lots of little strawberry-lings popping up make me very happy!

*  The little Muscovies are thriving, which is wonderful.  They are not thrilled with people, but I didn't get them to be pets, so that's ok with me.  They are growing by leaps and bounds, and I am thrilled to say, that small as they are, they are already trying to eat the flies straight out of the air.  I'm just fine with that!  The flies also seem to be out with a vengeance this year.  Anything they can do to help is just ducky (HA!!).

*  And so we come to the biggest news.  The countdown.  Minerva is due in 6 days.  6 DAYS!  Holy crow!!!

Her plug came out last week, which is no big sign, but it was something.  Her demeanor, however, has changed drastically.  She has completely mellowed out and turned back into MY Minerva.  Snotty-potty head Minerva seems to be gone, and she's back to being my sweet girl again.  She let me feel her tummy the other day (for a half a minute), and I felt a foot.  My bet is that she's got either one big one in there, or two at most.  I don't think there are more than that, but I could be wrong. 

Minerva and I have a special relationship.  We know each other, and that's not something I can explain more than to say that.  I know her, she knows me.  I'm not worried about her giving birth, oddly enough, because I trust her to trust me.  Just because she does.  I know that she will let me do whatever needs to be done, if anything at all needs to be done.  Because I know her.  I know, sounds odd.  But if you've ever had a special animal, you know what I'm talking about.  Minerva's my girl.

You know what I am nervous about?

This:

AAAHH!  Stainless steel!  It scares me!!

Ok............. no.

Milking.  Oh boy.  Milking scares the bejeezus out of me.  Lemme 'splain.  Back when I was a little kiddle, my uncle owned a dairy farm in West Virginia.  I don't remember a lot about it--my long term memory is really bad--but I do remember that he had pigs, which I thought stank, he had blackberry bushes that were huge and full of fruit, which I thought were really cool, and he had goats.  'Cause it was a goat dairy, see?  I don't remember what kind of goats they were, but my mother tells me that they were the ones with the "droopy ears".  So, Nubians.

Stewart says "Nubians rule!  Wanna hear me yodel?"

I remember going into the milking parlor and having him show me how to milk and then letting me try.  And I got not a drop.  Not a single solitary drop.  I have no idea how old I was, or even what I did right or wrong.  As is with memories, I only remember the failure.  Now, years later, I have successfully milked a goat--very briefly--I was testing a friend's goat to see if she had let her milk down for her babies.  So I have sort of redeemed myself.  But still the sting of that past failure persists.  I want so much to milk, I am afraid I'm going to have some sort of handicap.

Of course, Minerva wants to hear none of this.  She doesn't care about my insecurities.  All she wants is someone to alleviate that giant udder of hers when it's time.

It's enormous.  Especially when you consider she's a first freshener.   This pic can't even capture it really, it is so full and round.   If I compare it to Lilly's,

who is also a first freshener, the difference is huge.  Of course, Min is a precocial milker, so I'm not that surprised.  Lilly is not.  Still, we'll see who proves out in the end.

Anywho, I worry that I will not be able to milk my girls, and then I really worry that I won't like it.  Having the animals was so natural to me, I fell into the routine of feedings and cleanings and puttings-in like it was breathing.  Now I can't imagine my life without all the animals and all their routines.  How empty it would be.  I am hoping that milking is going to be like breathing--natural.  I'm worried it won't.  I guess I'll find out, either way, next week.

In the meantime, I am prepared.  The stainless steel above is a milking pail, a strainer, and the strip cup.  I also have filters and teat wash and balm and the whole nine.  And of course, I have this:

OHH!  Snazzy!  My millions of thanks to Fiasco Farm, who did all the thinking for me and designed this baby.  All I had to do was build it.  It took me an hour and a half and not much in lumber, and it's beautiful.  And functional.  I figured I'd take it for a test drive before I had to actually milk, so I put everyone in it for a hoof trim and haircut.  Why haircut?  Because it's going to be 90 degrees here on Friday, and my girls and boys are still in their somewhat winter hair.

Here's their before:

And Maxwell and Cynthia too:

They is cutie patooties! 
Don't mind the pen.  It's been raining here A LOT and it's all muddy and gross.  I can't wait for it to dry out!

Lots of shaggy butts!  So I put them in the milking stand like so,

Cleo really needed very little in way of a haircut.  She needed her feet done. 
Max is helping her eat her grain.

trimmed their feet, and shaved them down.  Now they is beyoo-tee-full!

 

So sleek and shiny! 

Lilly actually changed colors.

Before

After

Ok, not really.  That's just the way her hair is.  Light on the tip, dark underneath.  Now that she's shaved down, though, she looks very different.  I think she's a bit self conscious about it, too.  She was hiding when I put them away for the night.  She looked embarrassed.

I had fun, though.  I love working with my animals.  I decorated me,

 and the driveway in goat hair.

But I am hoping they feel better in the heat.  I still have to do their bellies, which I could not do because the trimmer couldn't handle it.  Just a note:  people haircutting trimmers do not work well on goats.  I bought an inexpensive Wahl people hair trimmer to do my goats with, and though it worked, it could not do the long hair on their bellies.  And I burned out the motor.  Ooops.  I think it would be ok on a short haired goat like Cleo, but forget the dairy breeds.  It can't handle it.  I will be investing in a big-girl trimmer soon, so I can do bellies and the spots I missed.

And I think that's all!  Oh, if you are curious about the Replamin I've been giving the goats, this has been my experience so far: it works ok.  They shined up a little, and under the crappy browning, I can tell that they are starting to blacken back up, but it's nothing miraculous.  I'm three weeks in with it, and I'm not seeing miracles, by any chance.  They look a little better. 

I decided a week ago that I was going to redo the entire feeding system and scrap the feed they were being given.  I have given up the molasses-covered gack that they were eating and have put them on a diet of horse pellets, oats, beet pulp, BOSS, and alfalfa pellets.  THEY LOVE IT!  Not only that, but their coats' appearances have improved immensely.  They are glossy and soft again.  The color is still not great, though.  I think it may take bolusing to get it right.  But the feed change is here to stay.  I am thrilled with it, and so are they. 

Ok, THAT'S all the news that's fit to print.  Have a wonderful night everyone!