Actually, it was less dark since Jezebel went into labor a couple of hours earlier than Delilah did the night before. But it was definitely stormier! It turns out we got somewhere in the ballpark of 3-4 inches of rain in about 12 hours, so we were fortunate no one floated away.

Jezebel, as is usual with her, decided to take her pretty time with the first kid. We waited around while she pushed, but progress was slow since she kept getting up to look out the door. And every time she looked out the door she would see our dog, Daisy, who loves babies and was curiously watching from outside the fence. Jezebel didn’t want the dog watching her and would snort and stop pushing and the coming baby would slide back out of view. I had a Saddle Club meeting I really wanted to be at, so eventually I decided to move things along by holding Jezebel away from the door. Phil went to the back and found a hoof coming. He gave it a small tug, but it really didn’t want to come out yet. We waited a little longer but Jezebel wasn’t making much progress when she pushed and Phil didn’t want to interfere much so we traded places so I could have a look.

It turns out there’s a reason things weren’t progressing! First of all, there was only one foot presented. One leg back is considered a fairly normal presentation, but Jezebel is a small doe who was stunted because of poor nutrition when she was young. She does better with small kids properly presented on their due date. These kids were four days overdue. When I reached in I found an enormous, bulging forehead stuck fast in her narrow pelvis. I could tell from the large horn buds just below the surface that this was a buck. With a kid this big, I thought she might have an easier time if I could find the other leg and bring it to the surface, but I was unable to figure out which leg to look for. I could not for the life of me figure out if I was feeling the right or left leg, and when I reached around on either side of the baby to see if I could feel the other leg, I couldn’t find anything but ribs. It felt like I was delivering a three-legged kid! So I went with it and started to pull. Once I began pulling, Jezebel started pushing and we soon had baby out. The other leg was there. It had just been hiding so close to his body that I couldn’t tell it apart from the rest of him until he was out of the sac.

And here’s the first boy, brand new and shaking out the birthing fluids he’d inhaled.

His mom and I soon had him dried off.

I could tell there was another kid there. Jezebel has given us singletons two years in a row, but I could feel another hard bump inside her belly this time! At first, we thought the second kid would be easy. Jezebel barely started pushing and a big, dark mass came shooting out all at once. Alas, it was just a head. There were no legs presented at all and I knew she would need help with this one. Phil got Jezebel to her feet so I could try pushing baby back in, but she was already too far out and her neck was only telescoping. I had to reach in past her head to find a foot, and Jezebel was fighting me all the way. She was also trying hard to lay down again and Phil had his work cut out to brace her up. The front feet were all mixed up with the back feet, so it took me a little while to sort it out and make sure I wasn’t about to pull the wrong hoof. I had to close my eyes several times and try to envision what I was feeling. Elbow or hock? Knee or fetlock? I could feel the kid squirming, which was very reassuring and helped quell the rising panic. Once I was sure I had a front foot, I brought it forward and the rest was easy. The kid was tired but well. And our big buck had a precious little sister!

Poor Jezebel was exhausted. She had pushed very hard on that second kid and was spent. She licked baby a few times but then fell asleep. I let her be for a few minutes, but she really had me concerned. I woke her up after a while just to make sure she was ok. The catnap was all she needed. After that she was able to get up and help clean the second kid. She sure is adorable!

After the kidding, my work started! Our shed, which was so dry and well-bedded when we began, was now flooding with rainwater that had formed a river outside and was running under the bedding. These kids would never get dry in this weather! I removed all the old bedding and used it to make a dam around the shed. The river slowed to a trickle. I had to race (best I could pushing a wheelbarrow through ankle-deep mud) from the barn where the bedding was stored to keep the dry shavings and straw from getting soaked on the way. I was finally able to say goodnight at 9:30 p.m. The goats were dry and warm and I was soaked to the skin and frozen. Time for a hot shower and some dinner!

Today is lovely and I plan to take lots of baby goat pictures while the sun is shining!

And a few more photos from this morning while the sun was still shining. What a beautiful morning to welcome the new members of our herd!

Delilah puttered around all day not getting the job done, and just as it was beginning to get dark she finally settled down to business. She held out as long as possible until she thought Phil and I would surely not check on her again. She doesn’t like anyone to attend her births. But it’s a good thing I can keep an eye on her in the Goatoscope because she needed help with these.

Poor Delilah came down with mastitis Sunday night. She had a fever and her udder was hot and lumpy with no milk in it. I started antibiotics right away and by Tuesday she was mostly recovered, but I know fighting sickness took a toll on her energy levels. Her contractions were weak and far apart. I could see hooves just inside, but every time she laid down and started to push, she’d jump right back up and stop pushing for a long time. At the rate she was going we would be there all night. After probably half an hour I finally grabbed hold of one of those toes and started to pull. Delilah didn’t help much and I had to pull pretty hard to get the first kid out. The baby’s nose was halfway out for what seemed like ages but I could see the little purple tongue twitching so I knew the kid was ok despite her delayed entry.

And she was worth waiting for! We got a chamoisee doe with an all-white face and cute little pink nose. She has a classic white splash on the left but the right side has spots more reminiscent of her Nubian father.

Phil loves his baby goats!

And best of all, she has wattles!!!

Mama was delighted with the little one and seemed content to stop there. But when I bounced her belly I could feel a hard little Something still lurking in the depths. Delilah started to lay down and push a few times, but her efforts were totally feeble and nothing was presenting at all. The first kid had been on the ground about an hour when I finally took off my coat (ugh, it was cold!), rolled up my sleeves, disinfected, and went fishing.

The kid was still completely in the womb with nothing coming to the birth canal. Apparently Delilah was perfectly happy for him to stay right where he was. He was presented correctly with one leg forward and one back. His head was in the right spot. I felt his teeth to make sure he wasn’t upside down or anything weird like that. The fact that he was still so far down in the depths had me worried that he was in a bad position. But he was fine. Mama just didn’t have the energy to push him out, so I had to pull. Once again, Delilah barely helped at all and this kid was bigger than the first. But I soon had him out and he was fine and strong.

Once he was out, Delilah was happy to see him. She licked him off and then took a brief nap. I gave her some Nutri-Drench to help chirk her up and it helped a lot. Then I had the lovely task of cleaning out the wet, soiled bedding in the dark and cold. But at least it had stopped raining.

We’re back from the Weld County Goat Extravaganza, and as usual it was a blast! We brought Finn and Sputnik for the harness class of course, but we also brought Rambo and Rocky to enter in the dairy buck show.

Finn and Sputnik were conked out the first morning. Finn was asleep with his head in the hay bag and Sputnik was using Finn for a pillow.

But the second they heard us coming, both boys leapt to their feet and were ready for action! The harness class was very low key this year. Not many people showed up, unlike last year where we had a couple dozen crowding round. No one brought their own goat, which was a bit disappointing for me, but that’s how it is. We started out with Finn and Sputnik hitched to their wagon, but Finn was too wild to pull well with Sputnik, so I hitched him up single and let him do all the work by himself. Normally the ring is covered with a kind of astroturf carpet, but this year they decided to use deep shavings instead so as to cut down on messes and smells. It worked well for showing, but it wasn’t at all a nice surface for driving. But slogging through the deep footing took the edge off Finn whose only thought was of running off. A couple of circuits convinced him to abandon his racing ambitions. Once Finn settled down I was able to take him outside the ring and let some of the class attendees drive him.

That evening Phil and I participated in our first buck show!

Also that evening, Finn decided he’d had enough of confinement and started leaping effortlessly out of the pen. Luckily I anticipated this possibility and had brought our wire panels along just in case. By the time we were done, it looked more like a tiger cage than a goat pen!

We didn’t have enough panels to enclose Finn and Sputnik together in a larger area, so Sputnik got moved to a private suite. He had no ambitions of leaping the pen, and he probably didn’t think he could clear it without a runway. Sputnik is capable of jumping just as high as Finn, but he has to back up a few yards, crouch, bob his head up and down, wind himself up, and then make a running leap to clear anything of substance. Finn, on the other hand, can sail gracefully over almost any obstacle without so much as coiling, which gives him the air of having wings on his feet. It also makes him hard to contain.

We had nothing on our schedule Sunday morning except packing up and going home, so we loitered around the show for a while and took some time to drive our team around a large parking lot outside. Saturday’s weather had kept us mostly indoors, but Sunday was clear and crisp and our goats were stir crazy from being confined for so long. They were in a running mood, and luckily for us there was lots of room to do it! Oddly, it was Sputnik who was leaping, bolting, bucking, rushing, and fighting the bit. We’re used to Finn playing up, but Sputnik is usually the Steady Eddy of our team. I guess he had a touch of cabin fever!

Nothing that can’t be cured by a brisk jog in the great outdoors!

Ready for takeoff!

Oops… As much fun as it is to exceed the speed limit, it can be expensive!

Was that joyride worth the ticket price, chief?

I took the reins and slowed things down after Phil’s brush with the law, and I had the boys practice crossing this big puddle instead.

Then it was time to pack up and head home! It was a full, fun weekend and I’m proud of our wonderful goats!

The best thing about having lots of animals is that they don’t let you wallow in grief over the ones you’ve lost. No sooner had we laid Cuzco to rest and wiped the dirt from our hands than the rest of the herd was clamoring to be let out of their pen and taken for a walk.

Goat stampede!!

The goats always know when I’m carrying my goody pouch!

Miss Tigerlily is carrying her pregnancy very well. Much like her grandmother Lilly, she barely looks like she’s expecting. But there’s a tell-tale bit of warmth and swelling in her udder area, so we’re guessing she has to have at least one in there. 

Phil and I call these clouds with rays falling through them “Jesus clouds” because they look like those paintings of Christ’s resurrection or return. Very fitting for the day Cuzco went to heaven. I don’t think the goats noticed or cared.

This middle-aged gray gelding named Jet was once the little black colt who started it all. I had no horse companions for our expected foal to frolic with (other than his exhausted mother) so Phil and I went on the hunt for a suitable goat companion that would be there for him when he was born. And that’s when we found Cuzco. Jet and Cuzco were fast friends until Jet grew up and joined a proper horse herd, and Cuzco grew up and joined me and Phil’s “people herd”.

Sometimes I feel like the Pied Piper but with goats in my entourage instead of children (and with this outfit, I think it’s appropriate!)

The herd has been going through a little bit of adjustment with Cuzco gone, but because Cuzco wisely passed leadership to Finn beforehand, there haven’t been too many ripples. There has been more head-butting between Finn and Sputnik, and the goats have been wilder on our walks lately, but no real disruptions.

But the power transition has not been completely seamless. The other day Phil and I watched through the window while a hilarious spectacle unfolded in our front pasture. Petunia (our herd queen) was really picking a fight with Jezebel (the lowest member of our herd). Jezebel looked like she’d rather not have any part of this altercation, but Petunia wouldn’t leave her alone (which is unusual–Petunia is typically one of the more laid-back personalities in our herd). Finn, feeling the burden of his new position as herd king, saw his clear duty to step in and break up the fight. Sadly for Finn, Petunia didn’t recognize her younger brother’s authority and refused to stand down. Finn kept running into the fray and trying run Petunia off, but she would turn and hit him back or circle around behind him and come at Jezebel from the other side.

Since Finn couldn’t run Petunia off, he instead tried to engage her in a fight with himself. That’s when Sputnik got involved. Petunia is Sputnik’s mother and the two of them have remained very close. Petunia keeps Sputnik on as a kind of bodyguard, and when Petunia is in trouble Sputnik is always the first to run to her aid. Finn was partially successful at drawing Petunia off to fight with himself until Sputnik came charging in to rescue his mommy.

Now all three goats were going hard at it until Petunia took off running full blast across the pasture and out of sight. Finn panicked. His herd was dispersed and he didn’t know what to do! He ran calling after Petunia, but about halfway across the field he stopped and looked back at the rest of the herd. Should he leave them? Were they safe without him? But what about Petunia?? The herd must not be separated! Finn began running back and forth between Petunia and the herd, calling and cavorting angrily. Eventually Sputnik went to retrieve Petunia, but Finn couldn’t let Sputnik act in a leadership capacity alone, so he continued racing back and forth between the two factions, brandishing his horns in frustration while the hair stood up on his back. He’s definitely taking his new leadership role very seriously!

Cuzco was usually more content to sit back and watch from a distance. If a fight needed breaking up the only thing he had to do was step toward the offending parties and give them a “look” and the fight was immediately over. Finn clearly has some proving up to do. Right now I think the herd is viewing him as a sort of Barney Fife, but luckily Finn does not usually overplay his hand so I think they’ll start taking him seriously before too long. There’s also a kind of dual kingship going on with Finn and Sputnik. Finn is undoubtedly the more dominant of the two, but they have become fast friends and are sharing a shed, sharing the feeder, and largely sharing responsibility for the herd. I think Finn is trying to avoid a direct confrontation with Sputnik because Sputnik is currently the bigger and heavier of the two and he also has the herd queen on his side. Finn seems to know that if he gets too pushy those two will rebel and dethrone him. Finn is a wise goat who I think will choose his battles carefully once he gets used to this new role of his.

I can’t believe it’s been a week. Our final day with Cuzco was a beautiful one and I took lots of photos. Cuzco came onto the patio for a few powdered donuts and I made sure to get a shot of his face in the doorway. This is the eagerly expectant look that greeted me every morning at feeding time for many years. Cuzco always got fed first, and he always ate on the patio where the other goats couldn’t pester him. There are a lot of Cuzco noseprints on this window!

“Mmm… donut! Gimme gimme donut!!”

Kiss?

Cuzco also ate a lot of peanuts that day. They’re not as good as donuts, but they’re still yummy.

Beautiful, noble goat. Cuzco always did know how to strike a pose.

“Got an itch! Got an itch! Got an itch!”

My two handsome boys.

We didn’t go far and we walked very slowly, but Cuzco seemed to really enjoy his final stroll through the pasture. He spent time grazing the soft spring grass in the dappled light and shadows beneath the pine trees. He couldn’t chew it very well, but I’m sure it tasted good.

I will never again be able to eat Pringles without thinking of Cuzco. These were his favorite. He ate almost the entire can in one sitting. Pringles are a very rare treat around here, but I have a feeling I’ll be buying a few more cans than usual this summer. Great… a yummy, expensive feel-good food just became irresistible! “This is your fault, Cuzco!”       

Cuzco’s final resting place. His baby portrait is carved at the top of the totem pole.

Today we said goodbye to our old friend Cuzco. I gave him a final grooming, and we put the other goats away so Phil and I could take him for a last short walk with us all to himself as he’s always preferred. He couldn’t go far. He was so tired. He had a wonderful last day. He ate four powdered donuts and the remains of last night’s popcorn full of butter and cheese dust. He got to lick the bowl clean. He ate many peanuts and animal crackers on our walk, and he finished up with almost an entire can of cheddar Pringles. He was a happy goat right up to the end. It was truly a sign when we came back from our walk that Cuzco stopped at his own graveside and waited there while Phil and I went on across the pasture and up to the house to retrieve a few things for his burial. I’m sure he knew, but he was ready and, true to form, he wasn’t afraid. Cuzco cheated death so many times in his fifteen years that I guess by now he had nothing left to prove. He reminded me of “The Tale of Three Brothers” in the book Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows–“And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.”

Also true to form, he gave us a perfect Hollywood exit. Cuzco has never graced the Silver Screen, but if any goat deserved a star on the Walk of Fame, it’s him. He lay down, leaned his face against mine, and when our vet gave him the injection he simply went to sleep. There was not a gasp or a groan, not a shudder or a flinch. I felt his last breath hit my cheek and then his head fell softly into my lap where he lay still while his heart gave it’s final few beats. And I am reminded of yet another Harry Potter quote: “…death is like going to bed after a very, very long day.” Cuzco set his affairs in order when he passed the leadership baton to Finn, and there was nothing left for him to do.

I left his collar and ID tag on him. I figured that way when he got to Heaven they’d know he belongs to us and won’t send him the other direction for being ornery and growling at Saint Peter. Even if he has to stay in “unclaimed baggage” for a while, at least they know we’ll pick him up eventually. I also left him with the remainders of the can of Pringles so he can snack along the way. Yeah, I know it’s all very silly, but it felt better than hauling that stuff back to the house with me and then having to look at it. Cuzco had sneezed in the Pringles can anyway so they were all his.

Cuzco is laid to rest under our totem pole. His baby portrait is carved at the top. When we look out the window or come up our driveway we’ll see his marker and be reminded of all the wonderful, happy times we had together. I’ll never forget my “Cuzco the One-Horned Wonder Goat”. He’ll always be larger than life, like the goat version of John Wayne. It’s been very hard to let him go, but it was the right thing to do. He was ready, and as he gently passed from this life I could almost hear him whisper “Thank you.”

This was our last photo together.

Last night’s campfire really couldn’t have been more perfect. It was warm enough for me to wear shorts but cool enough I wanted a jacket–exactly the temperature I like at a campfire. There was not a breath of wind all evening. Last night Phil started the fire before I brought Cuzco out. We didn’t want another goat flambeau disaster. No “Cuzco Crisp” at this campfire, if you please! We brought him out after the paper was burned up but the new fire smoke was still rolling. He spent some time, as always, taking in the vapors.

Although it was “Cuzco’s” campfire, there was a limit to our hospitality. I brought the squirt gun so we could keep the old fella at bay whenever the cooler was open. Phil and I wanted at least SOME of the buns and graham crackers for ourselves. Besides, when Cuzco goes on a junk food frenzy, he doesn’t exercise much caution. The line between comestibles and garbage is forgotten and Cuzco will inhale any box, bag, wrapper, or bottle that comes between his mouth and the goodies. Although Cuzco has always prided himself on his stomach of iron, I can’t imagine such a smorgasbord would be good for his digestion.

“No, you don’t like hot dogs, Cuzco!”

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t tried this particular hot dog before!”

“Cuzco, get off my hot dog!”

“Are you sure I don’t like hot dogs? Just because I haven’t liked them for fifteen years doesn’t mean I won’t like them tonight!”

Cuzco has always begged for a s’more, but he’s never been allowed to taste more than a small piece of mine. A good s’more is too much work to feed to a goat! But last night was a special occasion and Cuzco isn’t just any goat. For the first time in his life, I made him a s’more for his very own. It was ooey-gooey with melty chocolate and a perfectly toasted marshmallow that was crisped on the outside and liquid in the middle. Cuzco put the finishing touches on it himself. Like any over-excited kid getting his first s’more, he immediately dropped it into the ashes. He dove toward the campfire to retrieve it but Phil held him back while I fished it out for him. I picked out a few embers and sticks but Cuzco snatched it out of my hands before I could quite finish de-ashing it. Oh well, charcoal is standard seasoning at any campfire and it’s good for the digestion. Cuzco swallowed the thing whole and a big gooey gob of marshmallow dripped down the side of his chin. He spent the rest of the evening trying only somewhat successfully to lick it off.

He also got to hear some fiddle tunes.

Toward the end he stood braced against my chair for balance. I tried to convince him to lay down because his knees were buckling and his hind end was swaying, but he preferred to lean on me instead. I liked having his sticky, knobby old head in my lap anyway. It was a good campfire.

Every year our community has a big day-before-Easter party with an appearance by the Easter Bunny, an Easter egg hunt, and other games for the kids. When the weather is nice Phil and I try to bring a goat or two and the cart down so the kids can ride. Last time we did it was in 2015 (we got snowed out last year), and Pac-Man was our cart goat of honor. This year it was Sputnik!

His yellow and white horn wraps with the purple halter looked appropriately festive for the season. We’ve always had trouble figuring out what to do with the reins on these occasions. The kids love being able to hold them, but of course I can’t have them pulling my goat’s head around. I’ve always hooked them to the neck strap instead of the halter, but the kids can still slap them up and down on the goat’s back. My other goats never really noticed this so I’ve not worried about it too much unless the kids were slapping too hard or too often. But Sputnik is very sensitive to rein slaps and I want to keep him that way. So I fastened the reins to the top rail with a clove hitch and it was perfect! Most of the kids still didn’t realize the reins were only decorative. This also kept the reins off the ground. Usually the kids drop them in the dirt when they get out and I’m constantly having to go back and pick them up. Not this time!

Sputnik was awesome at the job. It walked him once or twice around the area to make sure he was calm and he only jumped once and balked twice before he got in the groove. He was a little hesitant about leaving Finn at first, but he soon realized that he was ok without his buddy.

I love the flowers on the back of the cart.

“Good job, Sputnik!”

Phil brought Finn down so the kids would have a goat to pet. It’s always been a little difficult doing these things with just one goat because half the kids want to ride and the other half want to pet so it can get very crowded around the goat and difficult to start off safely. So Finn got to be our “meet and greet” front man while Sputnik did the grunt work.

After the event I took the boys into the field for some nice close-ups while their festive horn wraps were still in place. Both boys’ personalities have matured and their training is starting to feel really solid.

Sputnik has gotten to be quite a personable fellow recently. I hope it’s a permanent change. He used to be so shy and so averse to being touched or crowded. Now he’s finally coming into my space instead of me always having to come into his. He seems to be perfectly ok with being brushed now too. I could never touch him with a brush without sending him into a panic, but yesterday I brushed him all over and he never flinched or acted worried. Who knows–maybe by summer’s end he might realize he actually kind of likes it.

Finn’s horns are getting a very nice spread to them. There’s a lot more horn to wrap these days! Happily for us, Finn is usually quite careful of his horns and I’ve almost never been poked, prodded, bumped, hooked, or scraped by them. We do have to give him the occasional reminder, but usually when he passes close to a person he tilts his head way over to the side now.