freemotion
Food Guru
Kidding season is still over a month away here, as my first, Ginger, is not due until around the first of April. But....
She looks like a cow. A blonde, fluffy, fuzzy, shedding cow. A sweet, gentle, galoot of a cow. And this morning she scared the carp out of me.
She and her daughter, the also-preggers Peach, have claimed the center of the communal stall as their sleeping spot. They sleep back to back, and nose to tail, and usually partially underneath the door that hangs in the center of the stall as a visual barrier to slow down the bullying. I also hang four of the six haybags on it. It is now only a little more than a foot off the floor, which is very deeply bedded with a build-up of hay and poo over the initial deep bedding of leaves. It is very cozy in there.
This morning I went out very late, after 10 AM, since I've had much trouble sleeping lately and actually slept and did some catching up last night and this morning. The goats now have three extra hay racks set up, so five goats have six haybags and three racks. They never run out. No one is lactating anymore, so no need to rush out. I'm still not lifting more than 10 lbs, so the hubster does water buckets when he gets home from work at 10:30.
So I go out there with a bucket of sprouted oats for the poultry in my hand, and you can guess what happened...I get mobbed by goats. Except Ginger and Peach...and when I get into the stall (to reach the turkeys, who decided that they live on the 4' dividing wall to one of the kidding stalls) I see Ginger stretched out, still, with her neck and head stretched forward and on the ground, and her body upright, resting on her chest, all four feet tucked in for warmth. She is ginormous. Eyes closed. Is she breathing? She doesn't even flick an ear when I come in, all noisy and scolding Mya, the buck, and eager Plum.
Peach looks up at me from her resting spot against her mother, but doesn't rise. I call to Ginger, and she still doesn't stir.....and I am literally a foot away from her, fighting off goats who want the grain I'm holding. I call and call. Not even the slightest blink from Ginger. Finally, I go over and put my hand on her and start rocking her huge body, calling to her with a bit of panic.
She raises her head, blinking, looking confused. She sees the grain bucket, and after a few more seconds, decides it is worth the effort to get up. She is absolutely fine. I, on the other hand, am in need of some serious pharmaceuticals!
Poor gal is exhausted from gestating those babies. Wonder how many she'll have, the big doofus?
She looks like a cow. A blonde, fluffy, fuzzy, shedding cow. A sweet, gentle, galoot of a cow. And this morning she scared the carp out of me.
She and her daughter, the also-preggers Peach, have claimed the center of the communal stall as their sleeping spot. They sleep back to back, and nose to tail, and usually partially underneath the door that hangs in the center of the stall as a visual barrier to slow down the bullying. I also hang four of the six haybags on it. It is now only a little more than a foot off the floor, which is very deeply bedded with a build-up of hay and poo over the initial deep bedding of leaves. It is very cozy in there.
This morning I went out very late, after 10 AM, since I've had much trouble sleeping lately and actually slept and did some catching up last night and this morning. The goats now have three extra hay racks set up, so five goats have six haybags and three racks. They never run out. No one is lactating anymore, so no need to rush out. I'm still not lifting more than 10 lbs, so the hubster does water buckets when he gets home from work at 10:30.
So I go out there with a bucket of sprouted oats for the poultry in my hand, and you can guess what happened...I get mobbed by goats. Except Ginger and Peach...and when I get into the stall (to reach the turkeys, who decided that they live on the 4' dividing wall to one of the kidding stalls) I see Ginger stretched out, still, with her neck and head stretched forward and on the ground, and her body upright, resting on her chest, all four feet tucked in for warmth. She is ginormous. Eyes closed. Is she breathing? She doesn't even flick an ear when I come in, all noisy and scolding Mya, the buck, and eager Plum.
Peach looks up at me from her resting spot against her mother, but doesn't rise. I call to Ginger, and she still doesn't stir.....and I am literally a foot away from her, fighting off goats who want the grain I'm holding. I call and call. Not even the slightest blink from Ginger. Finally, I go over and put my hand on her and start rocking her huge body, calling to her with a bit of panic.
She raises her head, blinking, looking confused. She sees the grain bucket, and after a few more seconds, decides it is worth the effort to get up. She is absolutely fine. I, on the other hand, am in need of some serious pharmaceuticals!
Poor gal is exhausted from gestating those babies. Wonder how many she'll have, the big doofus?
A new kidding journal to read!
