Goat in a Coat...

 Mornings are busy at FairWinds. There is laundry to wash, coffee to brew, the house to tidy, dogs, cats, two coops of chickens, and six hungry goats to feed. There are water containers to fill and breakfast to cook. It's always a bit of a hurry to get everything done before the day's first customer arrives. So it threw a wrench into the works when Happy goat collapsed at my feet while I fed the girls their morning meal. She struggled to stand and get to the feed bucket, her appetite obviously unaffected by whatever was ailing her. 

Times like this are when I am extra glad for the miracle of cellular telephones. I grabbed mine and took a 15-second video of Happy and her out-of-control rear end. I sent it to my veterinarian, and within moments, she messaged me back, "I'll be over by mid-morning." As I continued my chores, I had flashbacks of Happy in the past few days. One day, she was lying off to the side, a little away from the herd. This is not totally unusual, but it was noteworthy. Another time, it looked like she was a bit wobbly when walking up the steep ramp to Billy Goat Gruff Bridge. I gave her a hard look, but she seemed okay. Puzzle pieces were clicking into place, and there had been subtle signs leading up to this morning's dramatic happenings. 

The veterinarian arrived around 9:30. After she took the goats temperature  (it was low, and she was a little shivery) and examined her, she felt confident that what was ailing Happy was a parasite called meningeal worm. They infect the central nervous system and are carried by white-tail deer, prevalent here in Maine. She gave Happy many injections. B vitamins, steroids, antibiotics, anti-inflammatory medications, and more. She gave the 50-pound goat a dose of oral wormer big enough for a 500-pound horse, and I will repeat that for five days. She left me with a bag full of other medications; some I have to inject under her skin, and others I have to try to get past her sharp teeth. 

Getting back to work, I began brainstorming how to help Happy warm up. I remembered that I had a fleece vest that might work. I mentioned it to Rachel, and while I was drying the pup on my grooming table, she dug through my messy closet and found the vest. I looked out the window to see her with a toddler holding one hand, a red vest in the other, and an infant in a backpack. She caught Happy and put the vest on her, zipper side up. It was much too big. Chris arrived to help. He retrieved a zip tie and cinched the back of the vest, making a fetching bustle with the extra fabric. 

Happy is a little wobbly but seems better already. She has kept her red vest on, and when I slide my hand between it and her back, she is toasty warm. I will continue to follow the veterinarian's instructions to the letter and hope my Happy goat is soon back to normal. 

Create a life...

 "Create a life you don't need a vacation from" is a quote I am fond of. Chris and I have done a pretty good job of doing just that, but it is foliage season in Maine I wanted to get out and enjoy it before the bitter north winds blow the leaves away. I told Chris I thought heading towards Moosehead Lake for an overnight adventure would be fun. Quick as a wink, he'd researched and found a scenic route for us to drive, a historic inn for us to stay in, and a list of likely restaurants in the area to enjoy. All I had to do was leave instructions for animal care, toss a few things in an overnight bag, and we were off. 

The weather was perfect, and the drive glorious. One of the things that makes the foliage in New England so memorable is that while hardwood trees like maples and oaks put on a brilliant show, they are intermingled with dark fir and pine trees to contrast the splashes of gold, orange, and red. There is a reason people come from all over to "leaf peep," it's an incredible sight. We missed "peak" foliage by about a week. The red and orange leaves seem to fall first (though there were still some of each to admire), but the phase slightly past peak foliage is what I refer to as the copper season. We were treated to miles of road that led us through trees glowing in shades of burnished tones. 

We had a delicious lunch on the bank of the lake, then headed to the inn. It rose majestically at the top of a hill, as welcoming as could be. 

The innkeeper greeted us by name and gave us a tour of the downstairs. In the pretty dining room, each table was draped in crisp white linen and set with willowware. A fire danced on the hearth. A little bar was off to one corner. The innkeeper said, "If you want a drink and I'm not here, just help yourself and leave a note telling us what you enjoyed." An honor bar! Beside this room was a comfortable sitting room, and there was also an area with a vintage buffet set with various coffees, teas, hot chocolate, or chai to enjoy. In the center, a domed dish showed off a platter of fresh-baked cookies, and to one side, a small refrigerator held bottled water and soft drinks. A wide porch circled much of the house, and heavy white rocking chairs invited us to sit and admire the view of the lake and mountains. 

She then led us up a flight of stairs past a stunning stained glass window. 

A few steps more and we entered our "room." To our delight, it was actually an entire suite. 

It boasted antique furniture, fabulous views out the windows and a cozy fireplace to enjoy. 

The bedroom had a comfortable king-sized bed and the same epic view. 

Even the bathroom was picture-worthy, with unique vintage tile and a bathtub big enough to swim laps in. 

Once we unpacked and admired our new digs, we headed out to drive around the area a bit. We explored some dirt roads, a pretty pond, and a state park. Evening was approaching, and the local wildlife was quite active and amazingly unafraid. They posed obligingly. 

Chris planned a different route home the next day, so we had all new scenery to gawk at. We held hands, ate too much, laughed a bit, and enjoyed pleasant conversations. Back home, we had dinner in the backyard, watching a fire dance and our animals as they headed to their respective homes for the night. 

                                  photo credit: https://lodgeatmooseheadlake.com/blog/2018/09/best-way-to-see-maine-in-the-fall/

Our getaway was a smashing success. We have tucked the golden-hued memories away to enjoy in the future and are already planning a repeat visit. 

Feathers, wood and whimsey...

 As sure as the days are cooler, as the leaves change color, as the yard is filled with dew-spangled spider webs, there is also a delivery of whimsical pumpkins from our sweet friend Penny. It is something to happily anticipate every autumn. 

There are other signs of the change in season. The wood is stacked and ready for the cold days to come.

And the chickens are molting. The lovely feathers that have kept them warm and dry for an entire year are worn and falling out. They are everywhere in the yard and layer the coop floor in a downy, multi-colored pile. The birds look bedraggled. The rooster has lost his cocky tail feathers and seems somehow diminished. Looking closely at this Buff Orpington's neck, you can see the new feathers emerging in their casings. The birds will be dressed in bright new plumage in a few weeks, but they are a sad sight for now. I'm giving them high-protein snacks to help boost their nutrition as they go through their annual transformation. 

I ordered fanciful autumn-colored ruffled collars for the goats because it makes me happy to see them out frolicking in the pasture bedecked in plaid. Here they are checking out each other's finery. 

They seem to approve.