Planned Parenthood

Our two female goats were exposed to a buck, purposely, at Farmer Ron’s house in December right after we moved to the Black Squirrel Ranch. Once it became apparent that both does were actually pregnant (February?) Mr. H and I started to get excited about having kid goats running around. Our tiny herd of three could jump anywhere from three to nine!

What exactly are we going to “do” with the little herd? Honestly, there’s no firm plan in place on this one, so stop asking… We have all of these logical friends who want to know what the agenda is and frankly, Mr. H and I incorporate animals into our lives much the same way humans have children: either accidentally or with a half-assed idea of what the plan might turn out to be, with no firm understanding of the big picture. Heh heh.

In February, I started looking online (of course) and in goat and farm supply catalogs handed down to us by Farmer Ron – he gets all the best catalogs for farmers. Itemizing and pricing supplies I thought we would need to safely bring the goat babies into the world and keep them alive, making list after list…after list. With numerous written and electronic “kidding supply” lists strewn around the house I watched Bea and Peaches get bigger every day.

March came, the ladies looked more and more pregnant and Mr. H and I found ourselves trying to do the math from time of exposure to actual due date – it’s somewhere around 145-155 days for caprines, apparently. Caprine: fancy word for goat. Hence, “Capricorn,” I suppose. It’s a cool word, eh?

Did you see how easily I got off topic right there? Thinking about our little does going through the birthing process is still foreign. Actually, it’s probably the fact that I may or may not be attending these deliveries, is why I can get distracted. I mean, the only time I had to assist in deliveries was during my 15-year medical career and I was getting paid to do it! And I never want to do that again. Yikes.

I remember watching puppies and calves being born as a child; I even remember having to help a cow give birth when my dad wasn’t home. I think I was about 9 or 10. Other than these fuzzy, yet surprisingly vivid (at the same time) memories, I REALLY feel unprepared for what is about to happen. And, the funny thing is, it will most likely not even require my presence! Last year Farmer Ron’s goats had all of their babies before he went out to feed them, at 5am.

Is it possible though, that my dad’s goats realize they don’t have a whole lot of handholding over there at Scape Goat Farm, and that my somewhat pampered does—and obligatory wether—do? His ladies just know they have to shoot the kids out on their own, whereas Peaches and simple little Beatrice will just assume that Mr. H and I might be standing by for the strange event that’s about to take place? Probably.

Flashback from last year's crop

Back to the lists: one particularly wonderful resource for information is the Fias Co Farm website. Her kidding kit list includes everything from empty feed bags and iodine, to puppy pads, goat sweaters and a martini. Therefore, in my opinion, the lady’s a genius. And once we started to pinpoint small physiological changes in the ladies and realized due dates were impending, the nerves started to kick in a bit.

By my humble and uneducated calculations, if the girls both lost their virginity on or around December 10^th, they will be due in THREE days! Oh boy! This morning I woke up and sat down to review my information on “How to Assist During Kidding,” and “Signs of Delivery in the Pregnant Doe,” to hopefully retain something. With this information in mind, I took a mental list of items that were already in the tack room in the barn. Then, I thought about the items on the list that were still in the house—not helpful in the house if needed unexpectedly in the barn! These items include rolls of paper towels, puppy pee pads (for baby immediately after delivery), container for iodine, warm water (for does, post-delivery), and a goat sweater…. Goat sweater…

The best I could do with regard to a baby goat sweater is one of Talon and Wulf’s little winter coats. I’d say a coat that fits a 10-pound Chihuahua could actually fit a newborn kid. I gathered those items and placed them on the kitchen counter, in order to remember to take them out to the barn next time I go. Honestly, the girls could be giving birth as I write this now, inside, sheltered from a whopper of a rain deluge that we are having this fine Sunday morning. (Wulfie was so scared of the thunder that he climbed out of his pen in the basement to try to find a way upstairs with us—of course he got his way and everyone is waiting out the storm on the couch, looking much less anxious. Except me: we keep losing power and thus, television!)

I told Mr. H I’m just going to start with the last item on the kidding list – martini.

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