Well, dear reader, I am still feeling a bit green around the gills. However, the baby season does not stop for stomach bugs, vomiting, or other gastrointestinal unpleasantries. As I feared, complications with some of the babies have arisen with the cold weather. The mamas are all doing great. However, there are now two little girls whose mamas have rejected them.
Little Miss Merry Berry is one of Big Red’s twins, and Red has walked away from her for whatever reason. When The Bibbed Wonder found Merry Berry yesterday morning, she was in the early stages of hypothermia. It’s odd how quickly things change. When Eric checked on everyone before going to bed, all was well. He made sure every baby had a full stomach or had witnessed them eating on their mom, and everyone was tucked in tight for the night. Just a mere six hours later, the status had changed, and Merry Berry was on the brink of expiring.
While I was recuperating on the couch, I had the opportunity to play nursemaid to Little Merry Berry. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she snuggled into the heating pad. Once her internal temperature was restored, she took a bottle and then another bottle and was just fine. Her appetite had been restored, which is a good sign. I walked up to the garage to get another half gallon of goat’s milk to feed her through the night and heard the distressed cry of a little goat. Sigh. Not a good sign in the cold and dark. The cry seemed to come from the pasture field opposite the goats.
My brave bean and our friend went out with a flashlight to investigate, and sure enough, a baby goat was wandering the pig’s field alone and distressed. Welcome bottle baby #2, Peppermint. Peppermint was just a bit chilled and was still quite alert and active. However, rather than risk her falling into harm’s way, we kept her in the house with Merry Berry. I awoke at 2:30 a.m. to feed the little girls and was pleased to find them cuddled together and doing well. Both babies ate well and went right back to slumbering in their makeshift bed. I went back to bed feeling a bit better and happy that both little girls were safe and doing well.
Although most of the active gastrointestinal distress I have been experiencing seems to have passed, my stomach is still a bit delicate and does a lot of rolling. I thought I was on the mend until I picked up Merry Berry this morning to find her, and subsequently, myself covered in milk-based baby goat poo. Baby goat poo is a lot like human baby poo. It’s kind of yellow, mushy, and has a distinct baby poo odor. Sigh. As soon as I saw and smelled the baby goat poo, my stomach did that terrible immediate drop thing it does before one gets sick. My mouth began that horrible watery thing it does before one tosses one’s cookies, and I felt the fluids from yesterday rise to critically concerning levels. I yelled, “Move, move, move!” to The Bean and The Bibbed Wonder as I handed off a poo-covered goat and tried to make it to the bathroom. Although I maintained control of my stomach, I sat on the small bench in the bathroom, gulping in fresh cool air from the opened window, trying to calm my roiling stomach.
I did just fine until I looked down at my pajama pants to see a huge smear of mustard brown goat poo. That was it, dear reader; control was lost, cookies were tossed, and I cried in frustration over my continued gastrointestinal distress. While gasping with my head hanging over the toilet, I am pretty sure I heard my bean and The Bibbed Wonder giggling over my call of desperation, “Oh no! I have shit on my pants!” Although neither will admit to it, I believe I overheard my darling girl say to her giggling father, “Is it hers or the babies?” Sigh. The people I live with are incorrigible.
Although baby goats in the house are cute, baby goat sh** while one has an upset stomach is not. We are transitioning the babies back out to the barn in hopes that their mamas will accept them, or at the very least, they will be adopted by another mama goat. Our goats take a very “it takes a village” approach to the baby season. Please keep your fingers crossed all goes well, and they are accepted by one of our girls. Otherwise, I may never recover from this stomach upset.
As always, dear reader, stay safe, be smart, don’t make fun of people with an upset stomach…really, it’s just rude, and keep washing your hands.