I goat this

Life is still, stable and calm on the farm. Dixie and Davis (LGD's) have the goats in the back pasture covered. Levi and Whisper (LGD's) have the sheep and chickens in the front pasture covered. The donkeys are up front by the pond eating all the grass they can, also deterring predators from getting close. Things are good. We did separate out Chia and Georgia while we await Chia's kid goat(s). We decided to keep her safe and in a secure environment for which to deliver her kids, and have her best friend there as well. The same pen that was once Whisper's recovery location in the barn, now belongs to Chia and Georgia, two little Nigerian Dwarf goats - both female. They have a small place whereby they can go in/out their (once doggie) now goat door, into a fenced area of grass. Inside is a 10 X 10 cement area with a nesting area for Chia, and outside is plenty of hay and grass, and fresh water. We wait. It seems like any day now she'll give birth, but I guess it's just not time yet. Her udders are rather full, and the basketballs attached to her sides are making her look lopsided.
We did not separate out Nona, but kept her up close to the barn. And after losing her twins, we decided to take more control of the goat birthing process. The sheep had their lambs with little restriction, and they did really well. After they had their lambs, when we would separate them them for a few days to allow mama and babies to bond. Lambing seemed to be a breeze compared to this kidding process. So after our experience with Nona, we decided to try this new closed environment, so we could get a better handle on things when she does go into labor (of course, assuming we are here).
I'm going to backtrack and say that we have no male goats of which to impregnate our does. We have one wether, Twizzler, but he's like one of the girls. What a sweetie, he is! So how have we had two goats show up pregnant? Turns out the guy we had bought them from, had been allowing males to be in the same pens. So he's selling his goats, not even knowing if they are pregnant, and turns out we have another one (Chia) whose udders started filling.....and then we knew. Our success rate with baby goats (kids) is 0%.
So when we were given another chance at assisting with a baby goat, I thought that was a good idea. It all started with going to the feed store (where they also sell goats and sheep) to pick up some gas/oil mix for the weed eater. It's just a few miles away, and a fast and easy way to get things quickly, and so we bounced up there real quick-like on Saturday. We grabbed the gas/oil mix, and upon paying, somehow stumbled on the conversation of sheep/goats, and how they have a 1/2 day old baby kid goat whose mama won't feed it. They said its twin had already died, and it likely will, too. We then volunteered to take it, and try our best to get some colostrum in him, and see if he can turn around, and possibly survive. They took little time in giving us colostrum, nipples and water - along with the small (boy) kid who seemed hungry. And off we go, with a new farm animal. First stop? The Dollar Store for a real baby bottle and smaller nipples, as we've had success with that. There in the parking lot of the Dollar Store, we mix up a fresh bottle of colostrum, and sure enough, David is able to get this new little one to drink a few ounces. Wow, I'm thinking. This is going to be easier than I thought. The feed store had previously given us a 1 day old lamb (Belle) to try and save, and she did make it. But frankly, it was because the Vet saved her twice for us, when she tried to die on us. But now, it's Memorial Day weekend, and there's no Vet to run up to. It's all on us now.
One thing that really stood out to David and I was that the guy at the feed store said, "No need to get kid replacement milk yet, you can come back it is survives." (after getting colostrum for a day or two). I thought certainly, we can't think this situation for this kid goat is that bad, or is it?
We leave the Dollar Store parking lot, and make our way back home with this 1/2 day old kid. Things are looking up, and we have gotten some colostrum in him. We attempted to name him, and upon David's advice (another omen), said, "Let's sleep on it". i.e. "Let's wait and see how things are going in the morning". So, Saturday time kept ticking, and Little One did what these little ones do, and began refusing any liquid. We've been down this road. It's a road of force feeding. It's walking the fine line of trying hard to save an animal that may not be able to be saved. But we kept at it. An ounce here, and ounce there. But he became weaker, and no matter what, there was no going back. By Saturday night, we had accepted that: 1) He will not likely make it though the night, and 2) If he did, we could likely keep him alive after all. But as Saturday time moved forward, so did his inability to survive, no matter what we did. I even tried a fluid subcutaneous bolus (thank you, Tractor Supply who has these types of supplies) and honey in his little mouth to increase his blood sugar. He had gotten where he refused to swallow. Simply refused. Only a NG tube to his belly would get colostrum in him, and I could not get my hands on that. So after trying everything in our arsenal of survival techniques, we used a dropper and tried to get what we could down to his stomach. Night fell, and I placed Little One in a box with towels to sleep beside us. Maybe he would wake up in the night and take something, be hungry, or willing to try? High hopes, there girlie.
The sun went down Saturday night with everyone on the farm in good spirits. The sheep are sheared and content. The goats are all doing well outside, the chickens are happy and tucked in tight for the night in the barn. Things are overall - good. But as good as they are outside, they are equally not-good inside the house. Little One is now sleeping soundly, and tired from the day. We are weary, and still holding onto a sliver of hope. We all close our eyes to allow sleep to heal us, rejuvenate us and bring us a new, beautiful day to Rise and Shine.
It was at 3 am that Little One began bleating. His cute little sounds were music to my ears. I hop up, and had a bottle ready for him. He refused. He's talking, certainly he wants to have something to drink. (**Side note: I did take him to see Nona, earlier in the day, whose udders are still full from her recent birthing, but she wanted NOTHING to do with Little One. It was worth a try). Nothing, no thanks, Little One keeps insisting. He's talking and talking his sweet cries, all while refusing, even when I use the dropper, he will not swallow, and it all keeps coming out the side of his mouth. It's now 4 am, and he's back asleep. This is not good. I get up. I make coffee and try to figure this all out. I know the outcome of all this. I had been informed yesterday of this. I kept trying anyway, just in case God decided a miracle was available for this Little One. No miracle came.
Little One passed by 5 am, peacefully sleeping, peacefully dying. It was heart breaking. I've gotten better about knowing not all farm animals are going to live. It's still hard - every time - to let go. The lump in my throat forms, that is then followed by tender tears. Why? There is no why. My Will is not done - and God's Will be done. Giving these types of things to God is what helps me through these journey's. Hope and faith, and trust in Him to know that what's happening is what will happen. It helps me through these dark moments, as faith is what sees us through it all.
Little One is buried next to our other two recent kid goat loses, the twin girls. Still at 0% success rate makes me uneasy about Chia's upcoming birthing. How much kid goat loss can one bare. We never named him.

And while many wonderful things happened over this Memorial Day weekend, we were blessed to have another opportunity to try. And try we did. As this Memorial Day comes to a close, I know the reason I have all the opportunities I have is because of those who have served this great country (my own awesome Mom and Dad, thank you Mom and Dad!) - and those who are serving at this time. And for those who are signing up to become the next generation to keep us free and safe. I thank you all. My freedom is because of you. The words Thank You are not enough. My gratitude runs deeper and stronger than I'm even able to express. The losses of those in the military is a hurt I'm unable to wrap my head around - the sacrifices are many. It's all so much bigger that I will ever know. So so grateful, for the brave souls of others. Thank you.

Cyndi
Who doesn't goat this, after all.