As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I thought I would share this experience as it was new to us, and it is sort of unique.
I start this though with a thank you and a reminder to people who tell us in donating that this is the best they can do.
The best you can do is more than enough and is more than the majority of people ever attempt at breaking the rusty hinges off their wallets, covered with cobwebs and sounding like Dracula's dungeon when pried apart.
Your kind words and thoughtfulness in the things you say are the true meaning of Christmas in I know people have a great deal going on and are dealing with a number of things too.
That is why when something happens which brings out the real meaning of life that I like writing about that, instead of all of this other satan's world gone wrong.
So it was nap time and TL was asleep and woke up, and said to me that someone knocked on the door. A delivery came I had to help unload and with that TL appeared and suggested that we do chores early to get them over.
We were doing what we normally do, when I was putting a bit of hay in the pen and looking at Mother Marie. Mother Marie is the name of the goat who is the maternal material of all of the goats here. She is a character who got foundered, from eating a bag of oats, so her hooves grow out and she has problems walking.
She actually is the prototype of the world champion goats a few years back as she has those lines in her background. I had no intention of breeding her, but satan or God making things out, has her bred or I was hoping not bred as January is not weather for anything.
So I gave her a treat as Marie likes them and Marie is always talking. Her talking is groaning in the softest tones. She does this a great deal when prego and as her female parts were draining, her bag was filling a bit and she is hanging lower in the stomach which means goatikins, I have been frowning about all of this in I have to get the shed done, things moved out of Mom's porch and Marie is going to come and sleep over until she kids....or that is the plan.
So I was standing there and I noticed her flank moving....that area not protected by ribs and before the hindquarters. That looked to me like something kicking inside of her, so I put my hand there and of course another doe was bothering me for a treat, and I swatted her away, and in about 30 seconds, I felt a kick, the kid turn and either the butt or head rubbing against my hand.
I told TL to come over there and TL felt for a time, and said it was intestinal movement, and then the little rascal kicked TL's hand. That was really neat as I never had that before with any animal.
It was an introduction to a new life which I am even more now driven to do all I can to help it live. Last time Marie kidded, the big buck she had died in about 12 hours even as we tried to feed it. Died at midnight in my lap. The little female named Ellie did wonderfully and slept in Mom's room for quite awhile as a pet.
The buck who bred Marie certainly has vigor for 100 animals, and I hope this passes on to these kids. One never knows what one gets in breeding animals. Some of them are giants and some are wee things. I just know come about mid January, I will have some goatikins to deal with and milking Marie in weather that is probably going to make my hands bleed some more in that dry freezing cold.
I have no idea how many kids Marie has in her. We usually just have twins. They survive, we will be feeding the rascals for the next three months in this Ark we are now stuck in. Goatikins are not as well behaved as Belle........who just chews on my coveralls. She is still coughing some today, but seems to be getting better all the time.
The cyst scab pulled off today and Belle likes acting like a pocket-sized wild cow in showing fight which does not exactly strike terror in anyone, least of all the chair.
The best you can do is more than most people do, and it is always more than enough.
agtG
