Party on, Dude!

Just so you all don't think that we neglected Rhiannon on her birthday, I'd like to disclose that she had not only one, but two parties!

We had  two of Rhiannon's friends over yesterday for some running around, screaming, party games and the regulation consumption of mass quantities of cookies, rice krispy treats and ice cream cake.

Rhiannon & Daddy playing with one of her presents.

Then we went over to Grandma & Grandpa's house this afternoon:

We had Rhiannon's favorite meal; Fried Chicken!!  Then more presents.  And of course, more cupcakes.

She won't be asleep until at least 1 am.  Ugh.

Three years ago

Just a mere half-hour from now, exactly three years ago, Rhiannon decided that she'd had enough of life in my uterus.  She wanted out, and wanted out right THEN!

As she made this decision two months early, and without consulting Paul or I, it was quite the experience for us.  And our plans of a quiet  home birth were thrown out the window.  So much for laboring in the tub with candles, incense and classical music playing in the background.

Heak.  That's how I WANTED it to be.  Granted, I'm pretty sure there would have been lots of loudly vocalized swearing, cussing and the like.  But since we'll never know how it would have gone at home, I'd like to think that it would have been a very calm and spiritual experience.  Well, let's just pretend, shall we?

To say that our world was turned upside down for a while would be putting it mildly.  Two ambulance trips (one that cost over five grand!!!  What's with that???  Although in retrospect, that was one of the cheapest line items on the bill.), two different hospitals, one almost two hours away, and a month of Rhiannon in the NICU.  

But after all the insanity, we were able to bring our daughter home.  And as any parent knows, she has forever changed our lives for the better.

And even though I tend to lament on about how my serene, natural home birthing experience was stolen from me, I am glad for the availability of modern medical facilities.  I cringe to think what may have happened if we did not have these options available to us.  

I'd like to add just one more thing about our month-long stay at the hospital.  Although Paul was there by my side 24/7 for the first week-plus, he eventually had to go back home for work and to relieve my Mom and our neighbors from the daily tasks of our farm.  Since the hospital was a two-hour drive from home, I couldn't feasibly drive back & forth every day to see Rhiannon.  After being kicked out of the hospital bed, we had to find some sort of hotel so I could stay nearby.  That's when we found out about The Ronald McDonald House.

I cannot say how wonderful it was to have that facility available.  For those of you that may not know about The Ronald McDonald House, it is basically a large home away from home, usually located very close to a hospital (the one I was at was within a very short walking distance).  They provide room and board to families that have members in the hospital, believing that having family close-by is one of the best medications to a healthy recovery.  Daily home-cooked suppers were provided by local volunteer groups, an office with internet connection, a nursery / play room for younger children, a basement recreation room with a pool table for the older kids, and plenty of support from other families struggling with a member of their family in the hospital.  It was more than just a bed to go to after a long night at the NICU.  It truly was home-away-from-home during our time there.

For those of you who frequent The Golden Arches (do they even call it that anymore???), I'd like to ask you to think about dropping some of your spare change into one of those little collection boxes at the counter.  Yes, their fat and calorie laden franken food is pure evil to us homegrown / home canned / home made folk (but their french fries.....ooooooo, their fries!!!!), but I like to focus on the good that they have done.

Unlike many of the larger, always-in-your-face asking for donations charity organizations, this is one that we can honestly say does the most good in our community and is one of the few carefully chosen benefactors of our charitable donations.

Got Milk? Sure do!!

I was so worried about Nettie not producing milk that I put an ad in the freebie paper a few days ago.  If Nettie had more kids than I though she could provide milk for, I was going to give the male(s) away as bottle babies.  I just couldn't justify bottle feeding any kids, especially since any males were going to end up in the freezer and having to buy milk replacer would be cost prohibitive.

I really figured that it would be a problem getting "rid" of a male bottle baby, but I got five calls the first day the ad was online.  I took names down and explained to each of them that it wasn't necessarily a sure thing and that it would depend on how many kids she had and how much milk she had.

This is Nettie's udder about five hours before kidding:

It seems that Nettie is going to have more than enough milk for her kid.  

Since Nettie was so full, I also did something that I should have been doing every year; I milked about a quart and a half of colostrum out of her.  At first I felt badly for taking it away from the kid, but he seemed to be getting his fill and her udder still looked full.

It's a good idea to have some extra colostrum in the freezer in the event that a doe doesn't come into milk after a kidding (says I, the one who did NOT have any).  Even if you don't have any fresh milk to give a bottle baby and have to purchase milk replacer, getting real colostrum with all those good antibodies into that kid as soon as possible after birth is the best thing you can do for it.

Of course, in the days leading up to Nettie's kidding, I was wishing that I had saved some last year.  I did end up going to the feed store and buying a $12 bag of powdered colostrum just in case; wonder if I can return it?  But now I'm going to try and remember to freeze some every year.

Since Nettie only had one kid, I had to call back the people who had inquired about the free bottle baby and tell them sorry.  But there was one lady that was still interested in taking the kid after he was weaned -  and actually paying for him!

So although I'm a little disappointed that kid won't be fattened up for a tasty dinner for us (yes, I'm horrible, mentioning eating the cute little bugger, but that's how it usually goes around here with the male kids), but I'm also happy that he will be going to a home where he will be a pet and not a roast (or burger, or rack of oh-so-tasty-ribs).

Oh, and a great big "Thank You" for all of your well wishing and happy thoughts the last few days!  You guys are the greatest!

Finally!

This has been, by far, the longest kidding labor I've ever attended.  Nettie started talking and hunching her back around Noon today.  She was out of the kidding stall for the morning and I figured I'd let her stay out until she started getting down & dirty about labor.  

I swear she was going to have another quick kidding.  Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.  She was having pretty regular contractions since about 1 o'clock.  But then she'd just completely stop.  I'd walk her around some to get things moving again and then she'd have a few more.

This lasted throughout the afternoon.  And through suppertime.  And getting darn close to bedtime.  Finally just before 8 o'clock she starting having really hard and fast contractions.  Normally she'll lose her mucus plug several hours before kidding, and her water will break before the "bubble" shows.  But this time she held on to the plug and water (or whatever you call that other water thingy other than the birth sack) right up until I saw the kid.  He was presented correctly, although Nettie was having quite a hard time.  He was in the "diving" position, but I ended up helping her along just a bit by gabbing hold of the front feet and gently pulling as she had her contractions.  I knew it was a male before the sack even broke because I could already see the horn buds on his skull.  

I helped clean him up and dry him off, expecting Nettie to hunker down and get busy delivering another kid, or at least the placenta.  But as of 9:45 there wasn't another kid, or the placenta, unless she already ate it (the placenta, not the kid!!).   

If there isn't another kid, this will be the only time Nettie has kidded with only a male.  I guess I shouldn't complain.  The first two years she gave me a single doeling each time.  The third and forth years she had twins - one doeling and one buckling.  The fifth year she had triplet doelings.  Not a bad female to male ratio.

The little guy was happily nursing when I left.  It's only supposed to be in the mid-30's at night so I had to put him in my homemade-five-minute-butt-ugly-goat-coat:

Warmth was the main objective.  Fashion was obviously a second thought.   

I'm off to bed before I do a face-plant onto my laptop.  Goodnight all!

It's GO time!

Finally!


See ya all in a while!

Still waiting

You know, if I never second-guessed myself on the date of Nettie's kidding, I would have only been anxious since yesterday.  But nooooooo.........I had to re-calculate breeding dates and all that.  Serves me right.  Not only that, but when I checked the calendars for the past several years, Nettie has kidded a day later than her anticipated date the last three of five times.  So really, I should be expecting a kid sometime today.

It's now almost 4 in the morning on Thursday and I've been up for at least an hour.  Not only to check on Nettie, who has FINALLY bagged up, but to go coyote chasing.

Maybe a little over an hour ago, I half woke up and though I heard coyotes howling, but since I was being a lazy sloth still sleepy-eyed and mostly incoherent, I just shrugged it off and dozed off again.  Then a little while later I was awakened by the sound of a chicken squwaking like mad right outside the

SOB......they're back again!!!!
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Ugh!  I'm back now; not that you really noticed my absence.  And my right ear is ringing from the sound of the shotgun going off.  (Yes Paul, I know I should have been wearing hearing protection)

Anyways, back to my original rant.  There was the distinct sound of a chicken going nuts-o right around the back of the house.  I throw on a pair of pants, grab the shotgun, hop into a pair of Paul's boots, don my handy-dandy headlamp (how DID I ever get along without one of those things???) and Moonshine and I rush out the door.  Don't ask me why I even let Moonshine out, the coyotes would just laugh so hard they'd piss themselves, but oh well.

The culprit is long gone, or at least that's what I figured as I didn't see any glowing eyes peering back at me from out in the woods or around the house.  Made a quick circle around the house and as I'm making my way out to the goat barn to check on Nettie (again....***sighs***), Moonshine must have got a whiff of something as she goes running out into the woods baying like mad.  

Now really.  What the hell does she think she's going to do?  I mean, LOOK at this dog:

In what alternative universe would you think a dog like this would ever stand the slightest chance of doing anything to a coyote but make it snicker when it realized it was being chased by an overweight beagle mutt??  I actually get a little concerned when she goes chasing after the deer thinking that I'll later find her pummeled into the ground with hoof-prints across her soft and supple sausage-like body.

But I regress (as usual).

I get to the goat barn and Annette, Chop Suey and Pan are all in their "what the heak's going on" stance.  Nettie is in the kidding pen, wondering the same.  I take her out to pee, let her wander around a bit, then after consoling the caprine crew with a handful of corn, make my way back to the house.  Moonshine is back, tail a-wagging and I give her an "Atta' Girl" pat on the head and we both come back inside.  I wanted to look for signs of the chicken struggle, but figure I'll look in the morning for the possible survivor or the pile of feathers from the coyotes snack.
What's a chicken doing by the house, you ask?  Well, there is one chicken that does not like to go into the coop at night.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe she's being picked on when trying to go inside.  Maybe she has claustro-coop-o-phobia and the thought of being cooped up with everyone else makes her queasy.  Or maybe she's just a stupid chicken and only just now realized why it's not such a good idea to roost somewhere other than the secure chicken coop.

Anyways, back in the house again, I turn on the computer 'cause I'm obviously too wired to go right back to sleep.  Grab myself a glass of water, put on my fuzzy slippers and start to type away on this post.  Then I hear the damned coyotes again.  (Which is where I left you guys hanging the last time)  Headlamp, shotgun (pants are still on btw) and fuzzy slippers on, I go outside and wait for a few minutes, listening to the choir of yipping canines.  It sounds like they are farther down the property by the creek so I just popped off a shot into the air to make them think twice about coming back around.  Oh.  Don't forget to swap your fuzzy slippers for "outside" shoes even if you're just going to be out on the porch for only a minute.  Because you won't be on the porch.  And you won't be out there for just a minute.  And then you'll have to scrape chicken crap off your fuzzy slippers.

Haven't heard them in about a half hour now, so I'm going to finish this post.  You know, the short one that was just supposed to be an update that Nettie still hadn't kidded.  

Which she still hasn't.  Which is good I suppose because I really, really need to get some sleep.

I need a break...

....from goat bums.  And a nap.  Thank gawd I've only got two pregnant does this year.  

Anywho, I haven't talked about my injured rooster in a while and thought I'd give you all an update because I just know you've been all been all nervously wondering if the next rooster post would be a good one or a bad one.   So I'll save you the anxiety and suspense and tell you he's doing ok.  Although he's still really underweight, he's perked up significantly in the last week.  He's been carrying himself a little higher, tail feathers in the air and all again.  Although he still stays away from the younger roosters, I've seen him all the way up by the front porch on occasion, picking through the vehicle-pulverized acorn pieces on the driveway.  I even saw him "run" a little distance when I tossed a half-eaten apple out in the yard.

Still no crowing or hen-wooing though.  I wonder if he had more than just his foot and pride injured.  He's becoming quite the shadow though; following me around hoping for some good scraps or his own little pile of chicken scratch.  Which I usually provide him with; sucker that I am.

BTW, I was just out there at the barn and Nettie was just laying down in the hay.  Took her out so she could relieve herself, the she walked back in the kidding pen on her own.  Probably thinking I would give her another scoop of grain or something.  

Which I did; sucker that I am.