Sick goat update and PUPPIES...

 Bliss is better. Three kinds of antibiotics, topical spray, vitamins, probiotics, and more have all worked together so that she is up, walking normally, and healing. She still has a few days of penicillin injections to endure, something she and I both dread. Ok, maybe she doesn't dread it, but she certainly complains when it's time for her treatment. I don't blame her. 

Meanwhile, Opal had puppies.  Opal is a Pug and belongs to my daughter and son-in-love. She is 1 1/2 years old, and a delightful little thing. She had a rendezvous with another pug a while back and shortly after lost her tiny waistline. Before long she began to look like she swallowed a softball, and most recently looked like a generous honeydew melon was inhabiting her abdomen.  Yesterday while we were working she went into labor. Rachel gathered all the gear she had assembled for the big event, and she and Opal retired to the quiet living room. It wasn't long before Rachel helped ease a 7+ ounce female puppy into the world.We summoned Hannah from a local outing and she came back to witness the miracle. It was good she was here, because she and Rachel made an excellent team of able midwives while I finished working. About an hour later a boy appeared, and moments after that another boy. Then another girl. We thought perhaps she was done, but as we all gathered around the whelping box admiring the new family she began to push and number five appeared.Soon a sixth took it's first breath and we thought surely that was the end

. We brought the whelping box to the dining room and feasted on grilled steak and a huge vegetable and pasta salad I'd made earlier in the day. Evans provided special champagne and we lifted glasses in celebration. We had finished eating and were sitting around the table chatting when Rachel said, "She's pushing again!" A seventh puppy greeted the world. Looking at the pile of squirming pug pups it was hard to believe they had all fit inside Opal's compact little body. 

 

When Pug puppies get to be about 2 weeks old, we think they look a lot like little potatoes. The pups all have potato names, "Spud," "Russet," "Yukon Gold," and some more obscure names of potato types. We have put little ribbons around their wee necks so we can tell who is who, and keep track of their growth. (Below photo is a puppy in a soup bowl, on a kitchen scale.)

There are 5 girls and 2 boys. They will be colored like their parents when they get older, fawn bodies with black masks. The average birth weight was 6+ ounces, and they seem to be strong and healthy. Opal is a bit confused, but doing well keeping the crew polished and fed. Speaking of a crew, a group of pugs is called a "Grumble." This fact makes me smile. 

Bravo is so excited he can't even eat. He missed supper last night and breakfast this morning, obsessing about the new arrivals. Opal lets him stare adoring at them, and even sneak in a little kiss here and there, then she drives him off. Flirt investigated the pups as they were being born, and now ignores the whole show. 

The nest box is a contractor tub, and we are calling it "The Potato Bin." It is full of the cutest little grumbly taters you ever did see. 

Sick goat...

 Bliss is sick. It started innocently enough, a few weeks ago, with a rough spot on her udder. I began to treat it with some lotions and potions, and it got a little better.  Then after a week when I brought her in to milk for the evening, she had a 3 corner tear on her udder. It wasn't very deep, but about 1 inch long, and bleeding profusely. My neighbor came down and gave me some medicated cream to put on. I did, twice a day, and it seemed to improve a bit. Until it didn't. So I called the vet. There seems to be a bit of dance when dealing with large animal veterinarians. One does not want to call too soon, because they think you are silly. But of course, one does not want to wait too long, either. I think I waited about a day too long this time. The vet clipped the hair off Bliss' udder, and scrubbed the wound briskly. Bliss kicked and fought. The doctor gave her some antibiotics and steroids, and left a spray for me to put on her irritated skin. I had to give her injections for a few days, and spray her skin twice a day. Bliss hated all of it. And she didn't get better. She was up and about but clearly not herself. Her wounds were healing, but slowly, and I believed she still had some infection. I called the veterinarian yesterday and she planned to come this afternoon. 

This morning we had a wonderful rain, after a long drought. I had to go out to the goat cozy and put a lead rope on the goats and encourage them to come out in the rain. They think they are so sweet that they will melt if they get wet. I milked Spirit first, as always, then went out and got Bliss. She came along nicely, stopping to empty her bladder and fertilize the back lawn as we went. She hopped up on the table, and gobbled up the animal crackers I always give her, then began on her breakfast grain. I started to milk her. Sometimes when she does not want to be milked she will squat a little, making it difficult for me. I have to admit her, she is kind of a jerk on the milk stand. 

Today she took that to a whole new level, and sat like a dog, and yelled like I was hurting her. I tried a variety of things to get her to stand but finally gave up. She was terribly distressed. I managed to get her off the milk stand, but she could hardly walk, arching her back and acting as if she had very little control over her very weak rear legs. The rain came down, and she managed to get as far as her cozy, then collapsed with her head in the door and the rest of her body in a puddle. I managed to get her inside, and sent a rather frantic message to the vet. She called me right back and was here a little after 9. 

There was a bit going on this morning. Yesterday the furnace guy came to do the annual check up on our heater. It was fine when he came, and fine when he left, but this morning we had no hot water. No showers for us, and I didn't know what to do about the full line up of dogs wanting baths. I started out by putting a few kettles of water on the gas stove to heat up. Meanwhile we put in an urgent call to the gas company. Add to this the fact that we had another workman coming this morning to repair something. They all arrived at once. Customers, repair people, and marvelous goat doctor. 

The veterinarian gave Bliss a full physical. She took her temperature and listened long to her heart, lungs and stomach. We discussed taking a biopsy of her skin, we discussed her strange symptoms and what might be wrong. The vet pressed some milk from her teat and looked carefully to make sure it was healthy. It was. Then she spent a long time gathering medications. "We are going to throw the kitchen sink at her," she said. She have her two kinds of antibiotics, some pain killer, steroids, an anti-parasitic, vitamins and more. Poor Bliss hollered like she was being killed. I held her head, and she laid her face on my chest, staring up at me woefully while she cried. Her rear legs couldn't hold her up, it was terribly distressing. 

The vet collected a few hundred dollars and left me with a pile of medicine to give her over the next few days. 

Twice during the day I took out buckets of warm water with electrolytes. She drank them down gratefully, two quarts at a time. I took her some animal crackers, her favorite treat, and fresh hay. She mostly laid down all day, in a pile of deep, clean shavings. I watched her from the goat cam. This afternoon I gave her repeat injections, some wormer and probiotics. I sprayed the topical medication on her wound.She cried, and her mother looked on with great concern.

 Later, she walked, stumbling, outside for the first time all day. She took a deep drink from the water tub,emptied her bladder, wobbled a bit then went back inside, ate a little alfalfa and rested more. 

Over the next few days she will be an unwilling pin cushion as I pump her full of a variety of medicines. Having goats has taught me to get over my squeamishness about needles. Mostly. 

I will bring her special food and drink, and hope she will improve each day, and soon be back to her terribly naughty self. I hate it when any of my animals are sick. 

Maine summer...

20 plus years ago, when we lived in Memphis, a young couple with a two year old daughter bought the house across the street from us. We liked them immediately, and became good friends. Later they added another daughter to the mix, and the love we felt grew with the addition.They were the kinds of friends who would watch our daughter for us, invite us to prepare and share meals together, join us for the annual Thanksgiving feast, pop over unannounced and help themselves to something from the fridge. One of the happiest memories of my life is when Angel brought her 2 or 3 month old infant over, and handed her to me. She also handed me a diaper bag. "This one needs a bath, and her mother needs a rest," she quipped, and turned on her heel. I spent the next happy hour indulging in adoring the baby, giving her a sweet little bath, and dressing her in the clean clothes I found in the bag. I kept her until she got fussy, then returned her to her mama. For someone who loves babies as much as I do, this was a gift to remember. It was a sadness when they moved away, but we kept in touch some, and that was wonderful. 

When Rachel was 20 and trying to figure life out, our friends invited her to stay with then in North Carolina. She did for several months, and was greatly enriched by the experience. Last week I got a message from Angel, "Can Hannah come visit you for a while? Her college is going to be all on line this year and she doesn't want to do that, so she's going to do a little traveling." We got the guest room ready and now our house has the beauty and energy of a 20 year old in it. 

We cooked her a lobster over the weekend. She liked it. 

I like to see her sitting at the picnic table, painting. And I like to see those paintings drying in a sunny window. 

 The first night she was here Chris grilled some chicken and boiled some fresh corn on the cob. I milked the goats while he cooked. When I brought Bliss in, and began to clean her udder, I found a cut there, bleeding. I cleaned and medicated it, then messaged my farmer neighbor to see if she thought I should do more. She came right down, agreed with me that the cut probably didn't need to be seen by a vet, but she had some stronger medicated cream at home that might help. I didn't want to let the goat go, because there was a good chance I might not be able to catch her again when the medicine arrived. Meanwhile, dinner was served, so I just brought Bliss to the table. Chris grabbed an extra plate, so our friend was rewarded with an impromptu supper when she returned. Once the udder was slathered in medication, the goat went back to the pasture, and we finished our meal. 

I figured this would make for a memorable first evening in Maine! How often does one dine with a goat? (I must add here that Bliss had remarkably good manners at the table.) 

The weather has been hot and dry, and we have gotten in a few swims with the dogs, which is a joy. 

Opal the pug is very pregnant, looking like she swallowed a soccer ball. I wish I could describe to you what a very round Pug in a bright orange life vest looks like paddling in a clear lake. It's a sight to behold. Bravo is happy to swim, retrieving sticks or just puttering about for the sheer joy of it.  I bring Flirt into the lake in my arms to cool her off, and let her swim a few feet to shore. I can't say she enjoys it, but she is a competent swimmer and loves nosing around the waters edge to smell all the smells that a wee canine nose can find. 

Afterwards she sleeps well in the old enamel wash tub I turned into a bed for her. This is her favorite position to be in. 

The signs of late summer are all around us. The long, light evenings are a bit shorter than they were. Crickets chirp in the later afternoon heat, the air smells of milk weed blossoms. Along the roadways Purple Loosestrife, Queen Anne's Lace and Goldenrod bloom. Because work has been so busy I feel like I have let our short Maine summer slip between my fingers, and am determined to grab onto its joys as hard as I can in the next few weeks. I will swim as much as I can, eat the fresh corn from the farm stand, finally get my kayak into a lake. Hopefully I will share some of these delights with Hannah, so that when she leaves she will take along some happy memories of goats and lobster and New England summer.