Some days are best remembered instead of experienced. Yesterday was one of those - better in the telling than in the doing.
Rabbit, a first freshener and due to kid next week, showed signs of early labor around dinnertime so I put her in the birthing area of the barn and Dale, Loretta and I pulled up chairs to watch. Over the next two hours she progressed from mild agitation to straining but the process looked different from any other goat labor I had experienced. It was hard to qualify what was different and everything seemed to be okay so I ambled between house and barn with snacks and advice and even slight disinterest. Then at 8:30, as the temperature was dropping and the coyotes were tuning up Rabbit expelled a tiny stillborn doe. She looked normal and weighed in at 5 pounds, but she never took a breath. The birth had been odd with the baby presenting the crown of its head first instead of hooves, and the little body had been pushed out in one big whoosh of fluid. Rabbit nickered to it and cleaned it up but as soon as she turned her back to clean herself I wrapped the doeling in a towel and took her away. Rabbit got a handful of raisins and warm molasses water and went back to pushing. 20 minutes later another tiny form was suddenly spit out like a watermelon seed and flopped to the ground. This time I grabbed the lifeless form by its back legs and turned it upside down and shook it a few times until it sputtered. Dale and I helped clean the little buck up but Rabbit let us know that she was perfectly capable of taking care of that job. Dale and I sat back to wait for the expulsion of the afterbirth, the buckling to stand, and the first attempts to suckle. An hour later the kid still was not standing, no progress on the afterbirth and Rabbit was munching hay and wishing we would go away. We tried to get the kid up on his feet but he was too weak and getting cold. Warm towels, hot water in drink bottles and brisk rubbing didn’t seem to have much effect. So we waited. And waited. After 4 hours we felt things were getting critical so Dale tubed the kid and we got 2 oz of life-saving colostrum into his tummy. He warmed up and went to sleep. So we decided to call it a day and about midnight shuffled back to our houses.
At 12:45, just as sleep seemed to be within my grasp, the alarm clock starting flashing, beeps and buzzers went off and the washing machine came to a grinding halt. Then all was silent. Great - I would have to restart the wash in the morning and reset all the clocks. Then I looked outside and realized that the barn light we had left on was out and the ruby red glow of the heat lamps keeping all our baby poultry alive was gone - the world was completely dark. The computer that collects our weather station data had gone on battery backup so the light from the monitor allowed me to collect flashlights, get my dirty clothes back on and find a jacket since it was now below 40 degrees. I started over to Dale’s cottage only to be met by him on his way to get me. We came inside and started trying to groggily figure out what to do next. The phones were dead and we don’t have cell service at the farm. So we piled into my car and drove half a mile down the road to a little rise where we got a signal. The countryside was as dark as the inside of a cave - not a light twinkling anywhere except in the sky. So Dale and I, two worn out and disgusted “farmers” sitting huddled in a car on the side of a dark country road in the middle of the night were trying to find a phone number so we could complain about our plight. Thanks to my trusty iPhone I found a number for Bluebonnet Electric Coop and called it only to find that it had been disconnected. Doesn’t anybody update their websites??? Finally I found a number to report power outages only to give my name and address to a robot, who politely thanked me for my call and hung up. Click. GRRRRR.
Back home we started a fire and began filling metal buckets with ashes and hot embers. We were determined to keep our chicks, ducklings and keets alive. The cats were very amused that we were up so late and doing such interesting things. The thought of escaping to wild night adventures crossed their minds but they hadn’t gotten in their 20 hours of sleep for the day yet, so just went on thinking about it. Dale ferried the buckets to the various birds and I accompanied him out once to check the ducks. He looked over at the birthing area and exclaimed “another one was just born!” Sure enough, Rabbit had birthed another dead doeling, larger than the others, but she didn’t look right, and she was bright orange, even her little hooves. Dale and I just looked at each other thinking “what next”? That’s when the smoke alarms in the house went off. I had left the fire unattended and the spark screen open and all I could think was that if the house were on fire I would just fling myself inside and be done with it. The fire was quietly dancing in the grate but the alarms were screeching discordantly and the cats were all prick-eared and wide-eyed. Soon all was quiet again and Dale and I decided yet again that we had done everything we could and we deserved to go to bed. I sat down on the couch to collect my thoughts and fell fast asleep. Until 3:45 am when the electricity came back on causing lights to flash and beeps and clicks and alarms to sound. I awoke to the cats staring at me like I was purposely torturing them and would I please stop because they needed their beauty sleep - or else. I turned off lights, crawled into bed and actually got 3 hours of sleep before chores started this morning. Now why did I want to live on this farm???
Going outside and seeing the glorious sunrise, hearing an early morning chorus of coyotes in the distance and a stunning orchestra of bird calls, the sheep baahing in the back pasture, Percy crowing like he knew it was the best day of his life and watching the cats frolicking in the dewy grass I remembered - this is why I love the farm!
Rabbit is doing well but seems confused - just like always. The buckling is stronger but still not a normal frisky kid. The chicks, ducks and keets have recovered from our mothering. The cats have had their fun and are now are napping. All is well. Please let this day be terribly boring!!!
I just wanted to add that goat gestation is typically 150 days. Kids born 5 days early are surely going to survive. Kids born 10 days early surely won't. Rabbit went into labor 7 days early. But we are all rooting for little Chicory!
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