I actually had to stick my hand and arm up to my elbow into a goat to pull out a stuck kid! (You can bet that will make it into one of my books!). After an all-nighter with my extremely patient husband in the cold barn feeling tense and hungry with a goat having a tough delivery I’m taking the day off from blogging–so I leave you with a nice blog of old photos.
9 responses to “Goat Carts in Central Park”
Hoping the babe made it okay and the mother is doing well. Those are tough nights. How well i recall.
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It was a tough night but it was also one of those nights when you’re just standing around for a long time. My husband was wearing an old hoodie sweatshirt–nothing special, but I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for him. I don’t know if it was the moonlight or the shared experience or the sweatshirt but it reminded me of why I married him–which was nice since today is our anniversary ๐
Pixie, the mother is doing well (though now I’m paranoid about mastitis) and the kids are maybe even a little cuter than the last set…all girls this time so we’ll be selling a couple (I want to keep them all but obviously that would be ridiculous).
I know you told me that you lived on a cow farm but I can’t remember if it was when you were a kid or adult.
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Glad to know the kids are well. Happy Anniversary! Contrats on two counts ๐
My grandparents had a farm when I was a child, and even though I was in foster care and spent time in an orphanage, we got to spend weekends, summers and holidays with them. They had all sorts of animals. It was 500 acres. My grandparents made all sorts of cheeses, butter, cured and smoked their own meats. They raised sweet potatoes, corn and soy beans. It was long before organic became the “in” thing. No telling what sort of chemicals I had/have flowing through my bloodstream.
After I married my second husband, we lived on his parent’s farm for the first twelve years. 150 acres with mostly cows, ducks, and chickens, and a couple of Connemara ponies. two and a half acre veggie garden though. I am glad for my kids that they had that experience and they are now too, but they hated it at the time. Now my daughter raising her own kids, who lives in the city, really misses it.
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You are amazing. I suppose the second time you have to do that won’t be so bad.
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Now I’m practically a professional ๐ I was thinking afterwards that I was pretty great and surprised that I had it in me to step in during an emergency. I’ve seen people on the verge of drowning and in those situations I’ve stood there in a trance while the hero jumped in the water to save the victim—maybe I like animals better. LOL
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So funny, how you put this! I had to stop and think, oh a baby goat is a kid! Ha ha! You better include any birthing of animals, because they are always heart warming. I loved that English veterinarian, James Herriott, who wrote such wonderful books about his animal adventures. (“All Things Bright and Beautiful,” etc.)
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Me too! I love the English countryside and the way the Brits used to dress. Herriott’s books inspire my own–the way the author depicts humanity is so ennobling–and funny too. I’m now in league with all of the vets in shows I used to watch as a child where the doctor always had to save someone’s cow. It’s interesting to discover the things you can do. I NEVER thought I’d have the guts, but at the time I suddenly was able to envision the goats insides and feel around for a little goat kid armpit and drag her out. She looked really weird yesterday and my husband thought she had a genetic problem–no calm, cool and collected in this house! I said a lot of human babies are sort of ugly on day one–and the same held true with this little goat kid–today she looks normal and gorgeous. I’ll be taking pictures and posting them on my farm blog ๐
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At one time, I wanted to be a vetโuntil the night I was babysitting and the kids’ dog decided that was the perfect time to deliver her pups. Thoughts of any kind of medical career disappeared before the next morning. ๐
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Under normal circumstances I’d feel the same way–once my cat had her kittens on my pillow while I was sleeping. But when you see a little goat gasping for air and the mother in extreme distress the adrenaline takes over! My goat Pixie and I are such good friends ๐
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