Murphy's Answer to Countdown

Oh what a night! Yuli's first freshening, and the family's first kidding in a while...

Amazing how much people (myself among the best) can draw from a natural process a never-ending series of escalating worries.

How odd that we our open minds beset
With phantoms of our own imagining.
To take a process natural as can be,
And beef about the bridges yet to come
Which very well may never come to pass,
And stew in worry over this or that
One hundred thousand ways to skin a cat.
The anguish can attack, annoy, depress,
Afflict us with the grumpies or yet worse,
Make us to run away from what is good.
Yet lacking fears to torment our small minds,
We'd miss the sequel: O! Such sweet relief!

~Daddy Goat

So, where to start? How about with schedules. Yuliana, like many of our animal cousins, has mastered a bit of freedom from calendars. The perfect 150 day gestation would have been Saturday, which would also have fit in with other lovely plans we have made for the following week, showing off the babies and mom in a variety of educational activities. Sunday, Day 151, gave no signs of impending delivery. Monday, Day 152, and the week begins to take hold of our minds... Heck, we probably would even forget she was gestating, except that we have her separated. Tuesday, Day 153... sigh.... A watched doe never kids.

Let's see, what would Murphy do? I know. Let's plan to go to a concert 30 minutes travel away!

Bingo!

"I'm at the concert, where are you?"

"Just checking on the goats. Oh! Yuli is showing mucous! Hmm... I don't think we're joining you, but you go ahead...."

And to annoy the concert masters, but to my delight, text message updates between numbers.

"What's happening?"

"Having contractions... Everything seems fine. Mama coming with supplies soon. I comforting Yuli. She pawing and talking much."

"She eating hay betwn cntrctns. Mor fluids cming out."

"Yuli not eating. We cold & hngry. Concert over?"

"Done. Shall I stop for food on the way home?"

"No, friendly neighbor made us quesadilla's and tea. Get something for yourself."

Almost to the store: "Oh! she's pushing!" Oops! Don't want to miss the birth entirely... Abort food run and go!

Several hours later... after much pushing and pulling, coaxing, fussing--all seeming totally beside the point after the fact--and much licking of everyone and almost everything by the should-already-have-been-a-mother-by-now, out comes a big beautiful white with black baby. Happily identified as a very large doeling at first... but later discovered to be a beautiful boy, 10 pounds 2 ounces. (That explains the delay! Poor Yuli!) Followed hard after by a black with brown brother weighing in at just under 7 pounds.



The new mom knows her stuff! Cleaning up each kid and the kidding area with her unstoppable tongue.

Kidding countdown - 5, 4, 3...

May 10 - Day 145 - 5 days to Yuli's perfect 150: Got the appropriate sized link to attach the stock panel to the barn doorway. Kidding pen all set and awaiting signs from the prospective mother that she is in need of isolation. Any time now! (Hee, hee. Whee! Kids!!!!)

May 11 - Day 146 - 4 days to Yuli's perfect 150: We moved Yuli into the barn, bringing along her mother for company. They don't like being away from the rest of the herd. Even Yuli, who has suffered of late from T-bone attacks from the boys and their mother, seems to be calling to the others. I guess I can't blame them. For a bit of security, she's had to give up quite a bit of freedom. A large enclosure, with protection, but not so much space to roam, and though they have plenty of grass hay, I know they will miss the fresh grass that has started to grow in the last weeks.

May 12 - Day 147 - 3 days to Yuli's perfect 150: Jail break! Did those clever girls figure out how to open a spring-loaded utility clip, or did we fail to connect it properly? Well, whatever the case, Yuli and Zixi pushed through the lower part of our makeshift stock-panel gate and roamed free... and where did they head? To the heritage orchard, with baby apple trees that they pruned during their Fall escape from this same barn? No, thank goodness. They appear to have made a bee line (or rather a goat line) to the rest of the herd. "Hey guys, we're back, let us in!" When that didn't work, they found some lush new grass growing in the field just outside, and had a hay day! Gotta love 'em.

Friday the 13th and the Big Bad MRSA

So, goats get sick. As evidenced by my earlier post, sometimes they get mysterious sores. But, if there is no discomfort, and the sore heals well, one might think little of it. Until another goat gets a sore a week later, but maybe not the same type of sore. And it scabs and hangs on being sore, and losing a bit of hair with the scabs.

So you take a sample and send it to a lab for testing. Is it bacterial, virulent, or fungal? And what if the lab comes back saying it is bacterial, a staph-type bacteria, and as a courtesy to those who use the ranch, you have isolated the infected goats and posted signs that while you are investigating the problem, please remember what should be your usual care of general cleanliness and handwashing.

"Have you had a vet in to look at them?" People will ask. No, I called the local animal hospital for advice, took pictures, sent a sample off for testing. "But what about the health hazards?" What health hazards? We isolated the affected goats, we are using extra precautions in handling them. "We'll get our vet to come out!" Thanks, that's not needed. "Our vet will do the exam, we'll pay." Really, not necessary. "No, we insist."

We just got our results back from the lab, which show large numbers of staphylococcus aureous. Ok. A staph infection. Is it serious? Lab report says the staph was sensitive to every broad spectrum antibiotic, so easily treated. "Oh no, don't treat until our vet comes and checks it out! Kids use the ranch, we should know what it is before we treat it." But my vet says it is treatable. "The county council is involved now. We will examine your goats. You will cooperate."

This is weird. Why do I listen to this nonsense? Did they hear anything I have been saying? Oh, I get it, I'm not a vet, so of course, I probably contaminated the scab or something. That's it, the sensitive staph was mine. Whatever. Let him come. Not today? Three days from now? I thought it was an emergency for you. Poor boys. Delaying treatment and release from confinement because Daddy is too timid to believe in his own research, even when confirmed by a peer and a mentor. I'm not a trained vet. Neither are they. Maybe we don't know what we're doing.

So, the big day came--three days later. Not only did he examine the four isolated goats, but all goats on the premises. Found two fresh cases by then. Looks bad. "It may be staph aureus, but I want to speciate it." Huh? Staph aureus is the species, is it not? "Looking for subspecies ... Mersa is a big problem ... overuse of antibiotics ... should minimize exposure to children ... "

Sounds fishy to me... like someone who has been recently to a seminar on health problems in hospitals... but what do I know? Ok, so lockdown at the barn. No children. Minimize exposure. Only 1-2 people in barn to do the chores that once were shared by a dozen. Use chlorhexadine boot bath coming in and going out. I'm dying here. What happened to our cooperative educational ranch? What is "mersa" anyway??? Well, no time to find out, too much work shifting all our routines around to comply with biosecurity guidelines instituted by the officious, and turning our ideals of positive interaction and cooperation out with the footbath water. Vigilance committees report on violators to officials who have no jurisdiction, but who can make life uncomfortable... and do.

How long will this take? A few days for the culture to confirm staphylococcus aureus, another day for ... what was that? ... "speciation"? Repeated in a phone call. Yep. "Speciation".... "mersa". Do you mean by "speciation" the identification of the strain of staph? Looking for... MRSA? The strain of staph that has killed people in hospitals because it is so hard to kill?

But how could it be MRSA if it is not resistant to even the most commonly used antibiotics????

Sigh.

Mystery of the Sore Head

About a week ago, one of our two 9-month-old Oberhasli wethers, Tom, exhibited a raw sore on the top of his head. Now, seeing a bit of red on the head of young goats who butt heads together is not a new thing. But the placement of these sore spots is further back than usual, so it made the ranch manager bring it to our attention. By the time we got to see it, Tom's head had a circular raw bald spot on his poll, well behind the usual injury spot around his disbudding scars. Thinking this was simply an odd wound, we patted it with disinfectant wound powder and went on with our lives.

A week later, we see his brother Huck, who has been showing an occasional runny nose without fever in the chilly (for California--lows just above freezing) and rainy weather we have been having, now has something going on on the same part of his head. Though I have not seen them playing head-butt recently, I don't see all, so it could be a physical injury. Yet Tom's "wound" has not re-opened, as I would expect if they had been going at it, but looks like a crusty scab (no photos yet). Tom and Huck share the same enclosure and feeders with 8 other kids (2 wethers, 6 does) of 3 different dairy goat breeds (Nubian, La Mancha, Saanen). None of their pen-mates exhibit anything like this.

The ranch manager is suggesting that they have ringworm. It doesn't look like cases of ringworm I have seen before, so I'm dubious. On the other hand, I'm a relative newbie to raising goats. Could it be the fungus known as ringworm? What else might it be?

Huckleberry's head, January 24, 2009. New trouble is behind the (admittedly large) v-shaped disbudding scar. (Click for a larger image.)

A Fish Climbs a Tree

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."

Life's experiences have led me to reject fighting and war over and over again. When feeling threatened by real or imagined enemies, challenged by physical or emotional cruelties, how can we respond in ways that don't lead to escalation of conflict or resort to violence. Some folks train constantly for battle by working out, punching bags, training in external or internal martial arts. Does it make me or the world more peaceful if I let my mind and body go weak so that I cannot take advantage of others? When I feel taken advantage of, what do I do? My only option is to take the hit, which wears down my self-esteem... Or could this be an imbalance in my thinking?

Practicing martial arts like tai chi, wing chun, ba gua, hsing yi can lead to a martial thought process. Martial arts films are about fighting so well that you can take on every opponent. But is the martial arts film genre a good measure of the benefit of actual practice of the arts?

The Capricious Caprine - A Fable

On a rocky hillside not far from here, with verdant patches separated by craggy outcroppings, there lived a herd of goats happily feasting on the growth of the land. Though Young Buck was no longer a kid, he still loved to play, and was particularly interested in being at the top of any hill, stump or outcropping.

“I’m the strongest, I’m the fastest, I’m the King of the hill!” He would gleefully proclaim.

His kid brother, Little Billy, looked up to Young Buck and tried to emulate him. In fact, Little Billy tried to claim so many hills, that the herd leaders had trouble keeping an eye on him. “Hey, Little Billy!" called Old Joe. "Not so far from the herd! Take a little wisdom from your elders. Play may be fun, yet you must take care! There are lions and ogres; you must keep aware!”

“Oh, old Joe’s a fuddy duddy,” Young Buck told Billy, with a laugh. “He's just chewing his cud! Lions! Ogre’s! Hm, hm! He’s the ogre! He’s so old, he’s forgotten what it was like to kick up your heels, and leap through the air as though you are flying.”

“Yeah! He doesn’t know what it’s like to be the strongest, the fastest, the king of the hill!” joined in Billy, a little too loudly, perhaps, because his brother’s high attitude lost a bit of altitude.

“Hush! He’ll hear you!”

One day Billy and Buck got into one of their games climbing higher and higher on the hill. As they capered and flipped, they neglected to notice that the herd was moving away to a greener pasture. They also failed to see the mountain lion watching from among some nearby rocks. Billy, though much smaller than his brother, was giving Buck more challenge than usual. “I’m the strongest! Ooph! I’m the best! Umph! I'm the --hooomf – king of the Hill! Huhn!!” What joy, what fun, what a great way to celebrate the gift of life! Bang! This was the life, they thought, as they both reeled with the force of their huge head-on collision!

That was when the lion took his chance and leaped onto Buck’s back! Little Billy startled and ran down the hill for the herd, but they were no where in sight! Young Buck struggled to fight as he fled, but he felt his oppressor heavy on his back, and the claws ripped deeper into his skin.

Just as Buck was about to give in to his awful fate, from behind the tree bounded Old Joe, crashing into the pair. Thus began a great battle of rippling muscles, claws and teeth against hoofs and horns. Old Joe flew again and again at the lion, who scratched menacingly at the great goat while trying to avoid Joe’s forceful blows. Billy and Buck looked on as their leader fought alone, until the lion and the goat grappled, rose on their hind legs, the lion with his powerful arms around the goat’s shoulders, the goat pushing his horns into the lion’s face. “He’s going to lose!” moaned the injured Buck. At that moment, like a lightening charged rocket, Little Billy launched himself head down into the fray, knocking the lion’s hip and tumbling him over. Now the old goat and the young stood shoulder to shoulder facing their vicious enemy, and as Buck limped up beside the two, the lion made his decision to cut his loss, turned tail, and retreated over the hill.

As the three limped to rejoin the herd, Billy was elated! “Did you see how Old Joe flew out of the wood!? And me! I knocked that lion over! We really are the strongest and fastest, kings of the hill!”

Young Buck was not so happy. “I’m no king! If it weren’t for you two, I’d be lion’s meat by now. I see now that strength and speed are no substitute for watchfulness and wisdom.”

DaddyGoat December 23, 2008
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Small steps to success...

We held our third official Pack Goat Project meeting the other day, and I found myself pleased. We learned from past meetings two important points: 1) start with the activity, and 2) don't try to cram too much into one meeting.

The half-dozen youth, ranging in age from 10 to 14, enthusiastically suited up (boots are required in this area!) and (with one exception) efficiently got their goats on a lead, and met in the exercise paddock. We discussed what commands we are teaching our budding pack goats. Loading and unloading: "Up", "Down". Stopping and starting: "Stop", "Halt" , "Whoa!" or "Wait", "Let's go!" or "Come on!". Though we are not consistent across the group, all agreed the importance of being consistent when training your particular friend, so you develop and understanding of communication. Then we practiced with our individual goats.

It made me smile to watch six youth leading and stopping six kids in six different directions around the paddock. Some had clearly been working with their goats since the last meeting. Some were having trouble. But all seemed to be having fun.

"Ok!" I called. "Let's try an experiment." They gathered around me. "You are all working individually to get your goat to go or stop on command, to follow your lead. You are doing it in a field where several others are stopping and going in different directions. This is not usual for goats. Goats usually travel in a herd. So let's simulate a herd."

We all gave the go command, and they followed me around the paddock and onto the unfinished trail that partially encircles the ranch. No goats balked. Everyone followed. We came near the end of the trail, I called to stop, heard all the different commands being given. "Halt", "Stop", "Ho!", "Wait!"... "OW!" ... "Ow?" "Nothing, it's fine, I'm fine, we're fine." Lo and behold: all goats stopped with their handlers.

So, what do we learn from this? That we can achieve more by working together? That observing your animal's natural tendency helps in training? Came the answer from the crowd in the darkening twilight: "That hiking together as a group is a lot more fun than stopping and starting around the paddock!"

From the mouths of babes. ;-)