At present, though, everything is small and still an experiment. We have only five Boer and Kiko meat goat mothers-to-be, in addition to two bred mothers from our registered Nigerian dwarf goat herd. We had a few more promising does that we brought with us from North Carolina, but we struggled with parasite issues on the new pasture the first summer here in Wisconsin and lost a few very promising does--but that's a subject for another post.
For now, my post revolves around kidding season, which is now fully underway. It began with one of the dwarf goats last weekend. Little Milcah, a second freshener, went into labor Saturday evening as the temperature dipped a few degrees below zero fahrenheit. As much as we've read of successful kidding in sub-zero weather, honestly, Rosemary and I were--and are--quite apprehensive about births in the extreme cold. On the internet, one can read advice about making sure to dry the ears fully so that they don't get frostbitten, and of difficult cases in Canada, for example, where at twenty or thirty below there is even the possibility that wet hooves can freeze. In our own limited experience, I think that once in North Carolina we had a kidding in the upper thirties (above zero, that is!).
Suffice it to say, we were ready with a hair dryer and plenty of rags. We had warm molasses water for Milcah to drink during and after labor, and sure enough the first kidding went off without a hitch. Around 10 p.m., she gave birth to a beautiful, healthy buckling. His coloring is perfect, and the blue eyes he inherited from his father are a desirable trait that, together with other promising qualities, have us asking whether he might be a future herd sire. In fact, we may retain him ourselves since a few of our other dwarf goats are entirely unrelated to the high quality Sinai Thunder lines this little buckling possesses from both his sire and his dam.
Okay, enough inside baseball talk. But it was gratifying to watch vigorous new life make such a confident entrance into the world in such harsh conditions this weekend. Milcah birthed unassisted, with Rosemary interposing only to rub the little buckling off and run the hair dryer up and down his sides to eliminate any moisture and ensure that he didn't become chilled. My job was mainly flipping the breaker back on as a single electrical outlet struggled to support the load of multiple heated water buckets, a worklight, and, now, a hair dryer. Okay, I did take over a little later on, helping the buckling latch on to his mother and get some colostrum, ensuring that his belly would be full and warm on that first cold winter night outside the womb. But Rosemary really is amazing with the birthing process. She's had plenty of practice these last few years, even a few particularly difficult births back in North Carolina.
Speaking of difficult births, yesterday brought more mixed results. Since she was up to nurse Cornelius anyway, at around 4 a.m. Rosemary made a trip down to the barn to check on the goats. Sure enough, Mango, one of our first freshener Boer goats, was in early labor. This was concerning, as she had not yet developed an udder at all and was probably the goat we least expected to go next. Rosemary gave me a call, and I came down to the barn and took over, keeping watch until, finally, I had to leave for La Crosse, where I am teaching classes at Providence Academy part time this semester. Thank God for being closer to family--Rose's mother was able to come over right away to watch the boys.
Alas, I was off to the big city dressed in suit-and-tie, and it turns out that I left Rosemary to deal with a difficult situation here on the farm. Mango, it seems, must have been hit in the side by another goat sometime recently. Her single doeling had died in utero, and Rosemary had to pull it out. Although I won't go into extreme detail about how hard a task this is, you can probably guess that it's not a great deal of fun. For obvious reasons, it is also emotionally draining. Suffice it to say, yesterday was a long day in the Klein household. The doeling was beautifully formed, with traditional Boer markings. Even today, Mango is hearing the other babies and calling out for her own baby. She may also have a retained placenta, and we're working creatively with herbal remedies as we look to stave off infection without resorting to the use of antibiotics. Farming is not always so fun.
The lesson from all of this, I suppose, is the lesson of Job:
"We accept good things from God; and should we not accept evil?"
I've always struggled a little with Job's comment, though. It's not that evil comes directly from God, that he wishes ill for us, or for our livestock for that matter. But the adversities of life certainly do encourage us to cling more closely and gratefully to what we have. Part of what makes life so precious is the knowledge of how fleeting it is, and how tenuous is our grasp on it.
Just another lesson from life on the farm, where the mysterious intertwining of life and death isn't hidden behind the facade of euphemisms and antiseptic hospital rooms. What made yesterday worth it, even for Rosemary, who had to deal with the worst of it, was that another Boer first-freshener, Curry, went into labor shortly after Mango and easily delivered a beautiful, vigorous doeling. She's chocolate brown like her father, with a cute white star on her forehead. Curry and her daughter are doing well, and kidding season continues apace. Thank God for that, and thank God for the higher temps that the coming week's forecast promises.
"Thus the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his earlier ones. For he had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand she-asses. And he had seven sons and three daughters, of whom he called the first Jemima, the second Cassia, and the third Ceren-happuch. In all the land no other women were as beautiful as the daughters of Job; and their father gave them an inheritance among their brethren. After this, Job lived a hundred and forty years; and he saw his children, his grandchildren, and even his great-grandchildren. Then Job died, old and full of years."
No comments:
Post a Comment